The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 573

Franco froze mid-step.

*Thank you, Franco.*

The words dropped like heavy stones into the stagnant lake of his heart, sending violent ripples crashing against his ribs.

He turned his head slowly, looking back into the room with eyes full of a dark, unspeakable emotion. But Petty had already looked back down. She was patiently wiping Abacus's little hands, softly teaching him the names of his fingers.

"This is your thumb... index finger... ring finger... Let Mama smell them, ew, stinky!"

"Hehehe!" Abacus shrieked with laughter, instantly shoving his other hand in her face, practically vibrating with joy. "Mama, smell!"

Her entire universe was focused on the child, as if those three earth-shattering words had never left her mouth.

Franco pulled his gaze away and walked downstairs.

As if deliberately timing it, Petty didn't bring Abacus down for breakfast until she heard Franco's car pull out of the Misty Vale gates.

As the car rolled down the long driveway, the morning sun broke over the distant mountains. The light sliced through the bare branches of the sycamore trees, casting shattered fragments of gold through the car windows.

The snow on the sides of the road was already rapidly melting.

Up in the nursery, Abacus was happily chewing on Petty's fingers. When he looked up and noticed her staring out the window, he scrambled into her lap and followed her line of sight.

Through the towering sycamores, a sleek black car was shrinking into the distance.

His eyes lit up. "Dada! Car!"

Petty snapped out of her daze. She immediately masked her expression, making it look as though she had merely been admiring the view.

She scooped Abacus up and headed for the door. "Let's go eat our breakfast, then we can go see Uncle Hans."

...

In the backseat of the Maybach, the window rolled down. Franco reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

He flicked the lighter. A sharp *click* echoed, and a blue flame flared to life.

The cigarettes weren't stale, and the lighter still worked.

He clamped a cigarette between his teeth and lit it.

Since he had taken over full-time care of Abacus, he hadn't touched a cigarette in over six months.

...

Outside a private VIP room at an exclusive club, Jay knocked on the heavy wooden door. A crisp, professional voice called out from inside, "Come in."

Jay pushed the door open and gestured politely to the man beside him. "Dr. Cavanaugh, after you."

Franco looked up from the leather sofa.

The man walked in wearing a black leather jacket and casual slacks, cutting a lean, sharp figure.

He was slightly shorter than Jay—around six foot one—with pale skin and meticulously styled dark brown hair. His eyes were sharp, intelligent, and completely unfazed.

"Mr. White. I assume I'm not here for a medical consultation?"

Ian stepped into the room, his posture radiating quiet confidence.

Franco tilted his chin toward the empty chair opposite him, a silent command to sit. "You should already know why I invited you here, Doctor."

Ian pressed his lips into a thin line and took a seat.

"If you're here to ask about Petty's condition, I cannot disclose that. It's a matter of patient confidentiality."