He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 245

Right on cue, Elian stepped out into the hall. "Mrs. Fordham. Yorath is fresh out of surgery. While his life isn't in immediate danger, the wound was dangerously close to his heart. All this noise will affect his recovery."

A doctor's word was law in situations like this.

Marcella reigned in her temper instantly, wiping away her tears with her fingers.

She turned to Nyssa. "Nyssa, come inside and help me look after him. No one else is allowed in."

She pushed the door open and went in first.

Nyssa offered Jevon and Elian a sympathetic look. "Mrs. Fordham is furious right now. I'll try to calm her down."

She followed Marcella inside. Seeing Yorath lying there unconscious, she pulled out a handkerchief, looking heartbroken, and gently wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"Mrs. Fordham... when I lost my eye back then, I lay in the hospital sweating from the sheer agony. I'll never forget that pain as long as I live. And now, he's going through the exact same thing."

Her eyes reddened, and she turned her head away to wipe a tear.

Marcella's expression hardened. "I had originally decided to wash my hands of their relationship. But since this Ottilie doesn't appreciate the mercy she was given, I won't hold back anymore."

She was boiling with rage. Having grown up in a powerful military family, Marcella was the type to act swiftly and ruthlessly.

She pulled out her phone and marched out onto the balcony. "Nyssa, watch over him for a moment. That girl dared to hurt my son. I will make her pay."

"Shouldn't we just call the police?" Nyssa asked softly. "It's attempted murder. Let the authorities handle it."

"As if I'd let her off that easy." Marcella yanked the balcony door open and stepped out.

The hospital's VIP balconies were fully enclosed, wrapping around half the suite and offering a sweeping view of the grounds.

Naturally, the glass was not soundproof.

Marcella's voice drifted in, cold and clear. "Track down Yvonne Quinn. Dig up the entire city if you have to, but find her..."

Nyssa sat by the bed, staring down at Yorath. Even pale and injured, he was breathtakingly handsome.

Her heart fluttered.

"Appreciate the effort," Jevon said flatly. "But Yorath hates people touching him. If you want to put your hands on him, you better wait until he gives you permission."

He saw right through her motives and didn't bother sugarcoating it.

In their social circle, Nyssa had carefully curated the image of a pure, innocent darling.

Being called out so bluntly by Jevon made her face burn bright red.

She desperately tried to maintain her composure. "Mrs. Fordham asked me to look after him, so naturally, I have to be thorough. Wiping him down is perfectly normal care."

"I can wipe him down," Jevon countered.

"You're a man."

"Yeah? We used to run around naked together when we were kids. So what if I'm a man?" Jevon dropped heavily into a chair by the bed.

He wasn't going anywhere. He was going to use "looking after Yorath" as his excuse to stay, no matter how hard Marcella tried to kick him out later.