Chapter 205

The manager of the teahouse was momentarily stunned before quickly responding, "There's no one inside. Why don't you try calling your daughter? She might be somewhere else."

The undercover waiter didn't recognize Dalia. They had only communicated via phone and had never met in person. Now, hearing her shout, he mistakenly assumed she was Zuri's mother and avoided eye contact out of guilt.

Dalia struggled fiercely, her voice filled with desperation as she screamed, "She's inside! She's locked in the private room! Please, save her, save my daughter!"

The crowd around her whispered amongst themselves, but no one dared to rush in. The entire teahouse was engulfed in flames, and entering would be a death sentence. No one was willing to risk their life.

"Who would dare to go in with a fire like that?"

"Entering now would be suicidal."

"If there really is someone inside, they probably didn't make it."

"Poor thing."

Just then, the sound of fire truck sirens grew closer, and within moments, they arrived at the scene. The crowd parted to make way for the firefighters, who quickly sprang into action.

Seeing the firefighters, Dalia broke free from the teahouse manager and rushed toward them. "Please, save my daughter! Save her!"

Hearing that someone was still inside, the firefighters took the situation seriously and immediately began planning their entry into the burning building.

Dalia watched with hopeful eyes as two firefighters entered the inferno. Simultaneously, efforts were made to extinguish the flames from the outside.

Zuri stood amidst the crowd, her expression cold as she observed the scene, her gaze fixed on Dalia's face, which was filled with despair.

Forty minutes later, the fire was finally put out. The firefighters emerged, carrying a charred body. Upon seeing it, Dalia's legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground.

She crawled toward the body, wailing in grief, "Saira, my dear daughter! What will I do without you?! Saira..."

Dalia's heart-wrenching cries moved the onlookers, and many faces reflected sympathy.

Zuri watched the woman on the ground for a moment, then turned and walked away.

Suddenly, Dalia sprang to her feet and rushed toward Zuri.

"Murderer! You murderer!"

Before she could reach Zuri, Lei Ting intercepted her, grabbing her hand and preventing her from taking another step.

Hearing the commotion, Zuri turned to face Dalia, offering her a faint smile. She stepped closer, leaning in to whisper, "Your daughter died by your hand. You were the one who drugged her, who locked that door, who set that fire."

"Saira probably never even realized it was her own mother who sent her to her death. At least she died unconscious, without having to endure the agony of the flames."

"Remember, Dalia, those who do evil will meet their end!"

With that, Zuri turned and walked away.

Dalia's only concern in this world was Saira. The one thing that tethered her to this life was Saira. But now, she had unwittingly sent her most cherished person to her death. Only those who have experienced such despair can truly understand the depths of her pain.

Seeing the emptiness in Dalia's eyes, Lei Ting let go of her hand.

Dalia staggered back a few steps, then began to laugh—softly at first, but growing louder. Suddenly, she rushed up to a passerby, eyes wide with madness, and said, "I killed my daughter. I killed her with my own hands. I killed my daughter..."

"Hahaha! I killed her. I killed her..."

The passerby, frightened, pushed her away.

The people around her backed off, looking at her with a mix of pity and fear, as if she were a madwoman.

"Has this woman gone mad?"

"Looks like it."

"She probably snapped from the shock."

The crowd whispered about Dalia, who was now sitting beside the charred body, alternating between crying and laughing. Her appearance was that of someone who had lost her sanity, evoking sighs of pity from those around her.

Half a month later, on a sidewalk, a disheveled woman sat on the filthy ground, rummaging through a trash can for food. She found a piece of moldy bread and began stuffing it into her mouth, a foolish smile on her face. But just as she started eating, a homeless man snatched the bread from her.

The woman tried to snatch it back, only to receive a beating from the homeless man. She curled up on the ground, her body trembling from the pain.

After beating her, the man spat on her head, cursed, and then walked away.

The woman lifted her head, her filthy face streaked with blood, her eyes vacant like those of a living corpse. She limped forward, muttering to herself, "I killed her... I killed her... I..."

Not far from her stood a slender figure, watching the wretched woman in the garbage-strewn alley with cold, indifferent eyes.

Zuri walked up to her, looking down at the woman in the corner. Without caring whether the woman noticed her, she spoke, "If you're mad, then stay mad for the rest of your life."

Zuri stared at her for two seconds. The woman showed no reaction. Zuri turned and walked away, not looking back.

After Zuri had completely left, the woman in the corner made a slight movement.

Zuri exited the alley and approached a parked Rolls-Royce. She got into the car, where Leo was sitting in the back seat.

"Let's go."

The car slowly drove away, and the filthy, wretched place faded from view.

An hour later, Zuri arrived at Oceanic City Airport. As soon as she got out of the car, Azura ran up to her, hugging her tightly and whispering in her ear, "Uncle Leo is so mean! He wouldn't let me come to pick you up."

Leo's cold gaze landed on her. "Don't think I can't hear you just because you're whispering."

Zuri smiled.

Azura stuck her tongue out at her uncle.

"Let's go."

An hour later, a private jet took off from Oceanic City, heading to the next destination. There, a new chapter of Zuri's life would begin.

Meanwhile, two men in black entered a secluded alley in Oceanic City where homeless people gathered. They headed straight for the woman curled up in the corner.

"Is this her?" one of the men asked.

The other man kicked the woman, making her fall flat on the ground. He used the tip of his shoe to push aside the hair covering her face.

After comparing her to a photo, they confirmed her identity.

"It's her."

One of the men took out his phone and made a call. Soon after, a group of people entered the alley.

The woman seemed oblivious to the approaching danger, continuing to mutter, "I killed her... I killed my daughter... I'm sorry, Saira..."

"Hahaha, I killed her... I killed her..."

As the group entered, the alley was filled with the sound of her cries, which quickly faded.

Twenty minutes later, the men in black left quickly. The madwoman in the alley had been left with her legs and arms broken, her tongue severed, unable to speak or write. She was now nothing more than a useless, broken shell of a person.