Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 121

Maxwell glanced down at Rosemary, who was frowning. Even though she was forced to lean into his embrace, her gaze was fixed on Hogan.

It looked as if she had eyes only for the guy across from her. His hand slid from her shoulder to her waist, his fingers tightening brutally to yank her attention back to him.

Maxwell's eyes were an opaque shade as he said, “Let's go.”

Jason, with a keen sense of timing, had already parked the car right beside them, the door just a reach away.

“No.” Rosemary barely got a word out before Maxwell forcefully whisked her into the car.

Hogan's face darkened in an instant. He made a move to intervene, but his outstretched hand was blocked by bodyguards flanking him.

In the blink of an eye, Rosemary was in Maxwell's car, the door slammed shut, and they sped away from the hospital at breakneck speed.

It wasn't just Jason in the car; Christ was also there.

Hogan's voice, mixing with the roar of the engine, reached the ears of the two people in the backseat with varying expressions, “Maxwell, if you dare force her, I swear I won't let you off the hook.”

He said “force” because he knew as an outsider he had no say in their affairs, no matter how strained their relationship was. Even if they were in the process of divorcing, as long as they were still married, it was within the bounds of reason.

He could only stand up for Rosemary if she didn't consent. Men understand men better than they understand women. The look in that guy's eyes just now was screaming intense “possession”. Knowing what could happen if a man lost control in such a state, Hogan, as a man himself, knew all too well.

But what Hogan imagined didn't happen. Not only did Maxwell refrain from doing anything, but he also let go of her as soon as the car door closed.

Now they were sitting side by side, with a good half-meter gap between them. No one spoke in the car; even the sound of breathing was so faint as to be nearly inaudible.

Rosemary turned her head, and there was Maxwell, eyes closed, leaning against the seatback in a feigned slumber. His long eyelashes cast a shadow on his face, his lips pressed, the heavy shadow outlining his features and profile in a chilling aloofness.

Christ glanced in the rearview mirror, saw the two acting like sworn enemies, giving each other the cold shoulder, and couldn't help but speak up, “Mrs. Templeton, there's a pharmacy coming up. Maybe you can grab some wound care stuff for Mr. Templeton. He's pretty banged up too, been back-to-back in meetings today without even a chance to hit the hospital. Mr. Abbott's been in the army for so many years, and he's no stranger to the toughest and most grueling special forces training. His strength and skills are nothing to scoff at.”

Maxwell kept his eyes closed, neither objecting to nor endorsing Christ's suggestion. Jason had already stopped the car by the pharmacy, and considerately got out to open the door for Rosemary.

Four pairs of eyes, both inside and outside the car, were fixed on her, especially Christ, who was this close to joining his hands in prayer, nodding and bowing, practically begging her.

And fearing she might refuse, he went the extra mile, listing few ointment names. With the window rolled down and his loud voice, the people around the neighboring shops all heard him, attracting even more attention.

And then there was Jason, also sporting a look of earnest pleading.

Rosemary couldn't stand being looked at with such eyes by an elder, and she felt that if she didn't agree, Christ might just keep the door open and stay put even before Maxwell could say anything.

So she had been played, and she wasn't going to let Christ off easy, her tone mocking, “Christ, you're really going above and beyond, huh? Earning an assistant's pay, doing a mother's job.”

Which assistant cared about their boss to this extent? A grown man, begging a young girl, dignity be damned.

Christ gave an awkward laugh. He didn't mention that when Mr. Templeton was in a foul mood, it was him, the courtier who had to enter the CEO's office seventeen or eighteen times a day, who bore the brunt of it. Those nerve-wracking days were just no way to live.

He suspected he'd get a heart attack before he even retired!