He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 197

She pulled the ring from her pocket. "Could you please return this to him for me?"

Marcella cast a cold eye over it. The diamond was crusted with dried blood—her son's blood.

He had suffered broken ribs and nearly punctured his internal organs for this woman.

He had almost bled to death on that floor.

"You play the hard-to-get game flawlessly. I'm genuinely impressed," Marcella sneered. "But since you've already achieved your goal, there's no need to keep putting on this pathetic act."

With that, she turned to her security detail.

"Lock down every exit. She is not allowed to leave this wing until he wakes up."

Flicking her wrist dismissively, Marcella stormed off with her entourage.

Ottilie stood outside the surgery room and briefly met Jevon's gaze.

His face was thunderous. "What are you looking at me for? He practically bled out to legitimize you, and now the entire family has to accept you as his wife. You're terrifyingly good at this."

She didn't want to waste a single word on him.

A grueling half-hour after Marcella left, Yorath was finally wheeled out of surgery.

The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. He was completely unconscious.

Without his signature glasses, his striking features looked startlingly cold and razor-sharp.

Even asleep, he looked like a predator locked in a ruthless corporate negotiation; his body was rigid, completely lacking any trace of vulnerability.

Once they were settled in the private VIP suite, Elian turned to her. "He's got two broken ribs. He needs absolute bed rest. We're leaving him in your hands."

Ottilie sat in the single stiff chair by the window, keeping a massive distance between herself and the bed.

"I don't know how to take care of patients."

Elian gave her a dark look. "Back in the day, he'd cough once and you'd ditch work to run across the city just to bring him medicine. Now suddenly you don't know how? If you refuse, I'll just call Nyssa to do it."

"Please do. I'll wait right here until she arrives, and then I'll leave."

She turned her face back to the window, completely shutting down the conversation.

The veins in Elian's neck bulged with suppressed rage.

Back when she was trapped in St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility, some patients had severe episodes. When their families stayed overnight, that was the exact cot they slept on.

One night, she had dreamt that he was sleeping on that pull-out cot beside her.

When she woke up, the cot was empty.

Only the tears soaking her pillow had been real.

Right up until the day she was discharged, that cot had remained folded away.

"You dropped your ring," she said, pulling the pink diamond from her pocket and holding it out.

He reached out and took it. "Let me put it on you."

She dropped her hand to her side. "I don't like pink diamonds."

"If you don't like it, we can swap it. I'll have the jewelry designers flown in. You can custom-make whatever you want."

The multi-million-dollar stone was tossed onto the nightstand like it was cheap plastic.

"I don't want to marry you."