He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 308

“Ottilie is infected with a novel virus,” Elian explained. “We had been treating it as a standard flu, which cost us an entire day. It's too late to develop a new targeted treatment now. All we can do is try to keep her alive for a few more days. Yorath... you should prepare for the worst.”

Yorath nodded slowly. “She's still alive, right?”

“Yes,” Elian confirmed.

Ottilie was wheeled out of the emergency room.

Yorath placed his hand over her chest, feeling the faint, fragile thrum of her heartbeat and the warmth of living skin.

At that moment, he was overwhelmingly grateful to the heavens just to know she was still breathing.

She was transferred back into the ICU.

Yorath stood guard outside, his mind racing at lightspeed.

Ottilie rarely went out unless necessary, and given her public status, she interacted with very few people privately over the course of a year.

Her only excursion over the past few days was the trip Heath had manipulated her into taking, where they spoke privately for just a few minutes.

A momentary lapse, and she had fallen right into Heath's trap.

The Schmidt brothers were truly a matched pair. Lachlan had caused Mandy's death, and now Heath was trying to kill Ottilie.

Yorath dialed Heath's number. “Tell Nyssa to go to my law firm. I'll terminate her contract right now. You bring the antidote to the hospital.”

Heath was still recovering in his hospital bed, his left arm wrapped around a popular companion.

The woman was currently pouting in his arms, begging for a jewelry set.

Hearing the sudden demand, Heath shoved her aside and sat up sharply.

“Mr. Fordham, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I've been stuck in this hospital recovering every single day. What antidote? What happened to Ottilie?”

“Don't make me repeat myself,” Yorath said coldly. “I want to see your people here in half an hour. If Ottilie dies, I will bury the entire Schmidt family with her.”

He hung up the phone.

A violent rage flared in Heath's eyes as he smashed his phone against the wall.

“Fuck! That idiot Yorath can't even protect his own woman, and he comes crying to me for an antidote? He's nothing but hot air.”

After cursing him out, Heath leaned back against the headboard, lit a cigarette, and squinted in sheer enjoyment as he blew out a plume of smoke.

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