**Chapter 106**
Titus cast a penetrating gaze at Queenie, his eyes scanning the three of them with a seriousness that hung heavy in the air. His voice dropped to a low, almost menacing tone as he finally spoke.
“I don’t want Chiara to know anything about Elaine, so you all better keep your mouths shut.”
Instantly, Paul and Noreen nodded in unison, their expressions resolute. “Got it, Mr. Goodman,” they chorused, eager to comply.
But Queenie remained rooted to the spot, her shock evident as she stared at Titus, her mind racing.
Titus met her gaze with an unwavering, indifferent look. “What’s wrong?” he inquired, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.
Queenie’s fists tightened, her teeth gritted in frustration. “Why won’t you tell her? She’s the victim here! She has every right to know who did this to her.”
The words burst forth from her lips, fueled by a fierce protectiveness for Chiara. “Mr. Goodman, you’re just shielding Elaine, aren’t you?”
Paul inhaled sharply, the truth of her accusation hanging in the air. Who had the audacity to confront Titus like this?
He instinctively stepped forward, gripping Queenie’s arm. “Queenie, do you even know what you’re doing?” he hissed, concern etched on his face.
Queenie shrugged off his hand, her resolve unwavering. “Don’t bother me! I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Taking a steadying breath, she locked her gaze onto Titus’s cold, almost intimidating visage.
“Mr. Goodman, Chiara is your wife, yet you’re hurting her just to protect some other woman. I didn’t want to believe you could be that kind of man, but now I see it clearly. You truly are.”
Her voice rose with conviction. “Honestly, you don’t deserve Chiara’s love. It’s a good thing she doesn’t love you at all.”
For a fleeting moment, the atmosphere in the hallway thickened, charged with tension as if it could be sliced with a knife.
Noreen stood frozen, her eyes wide as she absorbed Queenie’s words, as if she were witnessing a revelation.
Paul was equally taken aback, his mouth agape, rendered speechless by the audacity of Queenie’s outburst.
Titus’s expression darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes. It was the first time anyone had dared to challenge him so openly, especially in front of his colleagues.
Noreen, sensing the rising tension, quickly reached for Queenie’s arm, her heart racing.
With Lena already gone, the last thing Noreen needed was for Queenie to be fired too; the thought of drowning in work alone was daunting.
“Just drop it for now. I’m sure Mr. Goodman has his reasons for doing this,” Noreen urged, her voice low and urgent.
Queenie’s frustration bubbled over. “What reasons could there possibly be? He just can’t bear to see Elaine hurt! Both culprits got caught, but the mastermind walked away without a scratch. How does that make any sense?”
“You didn’t see how Chiara was back then. If we’d shown up even a minute later…” she trailed off, the memory haunting her.
Noreen’s eyes darted to Titus, who was visibly agitated. As his expression turned stormy, a chill crept down her spine, prompting her to quickly cover Queenie’s mouth with her hand.
Leaning in, she whispered urgently, “Even if that’s how it is, it’s none of our business. That’s between Mr. Goodman and them. Who are you to get involved? What place do you have here?”
Queenie’s muffled protest was barely audible.
Not wanting to escalate the situation further, Paul swiftly took hold of Queenie’s arm and led her away from the hallway.
—
Titus stood there, his face dark as a thundercloud, a visible vein pulsing in his neck. He struggled to rein in his emotions, his jaw clenched tightly as he processed the confrontation.
Time seemed to stretch as he remained frozen in place, lost in thought, before finally turning on his heel and walking into the hospital room.
As he approached Chiara’s bed, he gazed down at her, still unconscious. The events of the day replayed in his mind like a broken record, a whirlwind of anger, fear, and relief washing over him.
For the first time in his life, his heart raced uncontrollably, a chaotic rhythm that echoed his inner turmoil.
He reached for her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it, his thumb brushing softly against the strands of hair that fell across her forehead.
“Let this be the last time, okay?” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.
But Chiara remained oblivious, unaware of the crushing guilt that gnawed at him, a weight he couldn’t shake.
Meanwhile, Queenie had been dragged out of the hospital by Paul and Noreen, now sitting on a bench, her expression a mix of indignation and hurt as she glared at them.
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