The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 210

"Dr. Zimmerman." Julian suddenly looked up. "If you don't mind, the three of us need to discuss OCHH privately. Since you are part of the Zimmerman family, could you give us the room?"

He said it politely, but it was a blatant dismissal.

The tension in the room spiked.

Not wanting Miles to feel humiliated, Claire quickly intervened. "I'm craving a soda. Miles, could you go grab one for me?"

Miles nodded coolly. "Sure." He turned and walked out of the room.

The door clicked shut, cutting off the conversation inside.

Miles lowered his head and stood outside the door, waiting in silence.

A couple of nurses pushed a cart past, casting curious glances his way.

They hurried off, whispering to each other.

"What is Dr. Zimmerman doing standing out here? Is he waiting for someone?"

"I think his wife is in that room."

"Then why isn't he inside?"

...

Miles ignored them.

Inside the room, the three of them were deep in a lively discussion. An hour passed before the door finally swung open.

Claire was pushed out by Julian.

She looked up, surprised to see Miles still standing by the door. "You didn't leave?"

"I was waiting for you." Miles stepped forward. "Mr. Young, thank you for looking after my wife."

Julian let go of the wheelchair handles, his gaze sweeping over Miles with a faint, amused smile.

"Claire, do you want to go check on the OCHH production line together? Seeing it in person is a lot better than staring at blueprints. I can drive you; there's plenty of room in the trunk for the wheelchair."

"Sure," she agreed, turning back to Miles. "Miles, Julian and I are going to..."

Before she could finish, Miles frowned, his right hand subtly pressing against his stomach in a fleeting, barely-there gesture.

Claire caught it instantly. "Miles, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Miles dropped his hand, his expression returning to normal. "You guys go ahead."

Claire stared at him for two solid seconds. He looked pale, and a fine layer of sweat had broken out on his forehead.

She turned to Julian. "Let's skip it for today. We can go another time."

Julian was stunned. "Claire?"

"Miles isn't feeling well, so you should head back. The production line can wait until I finish drawing up the new designs."

Claire handed him the water, her eyes catching the bright screen. She froze.

She picked up the phone, zooming in on the text, and her face fell.

"Chronic superficial gastritis?" she read aloud. "Miles, you have severe stomach issues?"

Miles acted as if he had just realized she was looking, immediately reaching out to snatch the phone back.

"It's nothing. I've been fine for a long time."

Every single meal he had cooked for her at Grandview Heights had been tailored to her tastes, and every single dish was loaded with spices.

"You have a bad stomach, and you've been eating spicy food?"

Miles murmured, "It's fine."

Then, a realization hit Claire, and she looked at him seriously.

"Now I understand why you were suddenly so upset that night in Queenshaven, especially after I said I ordered spicy hot wings for you. You can't even eat spicy food."

Miles let out a breathless laugh.

His voice dropped to a deep, resonant rumble, his dark eyes fixed on her as he spoke with pure, unfiltered arrogance.

"You think I took you so hard that night just because of some hot wings?"