The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 694

Chapter 694

Chapter 694

His eyes were brimming with desperate pleading. He looked utterly defeated, his usually broad shoulders slumping under the weight of his grief.

It was a pitiful sight, and Nathalie’s heart ached for him.

She gripped her phone tightly.

“Nathalie,” Bagot pleaded, taking a step closer. “Let me see her. Just let me know if she’s okay. I swear I won’t go charging out to find her. I know I don’t have the power or resources to bring her back right now. I know I’m not good enough yet. I just… I just want to see her face.”

Nathalie’s long eyelashes fluttered. Unable to hide her sympathy and helplessness, she finally sighed and handed the phone over.

Bagot’s breath hitched. He took the phone with trembling hands and looked down at the screen.

The moment he registered Lawrence’s smug, smiling face pressed against Damaris, a fiery, blinding hatred ignited in his eyes!

He was instantly thrown back to the day of the wedding.

He had been so incredibly close. Just a little more, and Damaris would have been his wife.

And this absolute bastard had stolen her away.

Bagot grounded his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

He took a sharp breath, forcing his focus back to Damaris.

He scoured every inch of her face, terrified of missing a detail. Only when

he saw that she was physically unharmed and that the stubborn

brightness was still alive in her eyes did he finally exhale.

Thank god.

Chapter 694

She wasn’t being tortured. She was surviving.

Bagot handed the phone back to Nathalie, his voice heavy. “Lance, find her as soon as you can. I want to bring her home. She’s been stranded out there in a foreign country for so long… she has to be homesick.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, his tone completely flat. With the thick gauze hiding his eyes, it was impossible to read his true emotions.

Nathalie guided Lance back to the hospital bed to sit down. Bagot quietly slipped out of the room, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in his wake.

Suddenly, the ward doors were thrown wide open.

“Lance!”

A frantic, trembling voice pierced the quiet.

Nathalie whipped her head around to see a middle-aged man and woman rushing in. The woman in front was Madonna, and following close behind was Lance’s father, Carl.

Hearing the voice, Lance froze, turning his head slightly to track their approaching footsteps.

Madonna threw herself at him, her designer handbag dropping to the floor. Tears streamed down her face as she reached out, but her hands hovered in the air, trembling too hard to actually touch him.

“Lance, how… how did you get hurt like this?” Madonna choked out, her voice cracking.

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