Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 148

Ever since that nurse was expelled by Maxwell in the morning, no one else had entered the room with bed 507. Maxwell remained seated by the bed in the same attire, the gash on the back of his hand had scabbed over, and outside, the daylight faded into darkness.

Maxwell hadn't moved an inch; if it weren't for the occasional blink, you'd swear he was a lifeless statue.

The room wasn't soundproof, so you could clearly hear the chatter and footsteps from outside. Those whispers seeping into the room made Maxwell seem even more lonely and forlorn, almost ghost-like.

When night fell, even those outside sounds disappeared. It got even quieter.

"Click."

The sound of the door handle being pressed down was especially loud in the silent room. Maxwell didn't open his eyes, didn't even turn around, just coldly barked, "Get out."

But the visitor didn't leave – they came in instead.

With a "bang," the stool that was propped against the door got kicked away, followed by a racket of more things being kicked around. The footsteps stopped only when they reached the bedside.

Maxwell opened his eyes and looked at the person before him, not a hint of surprise: "What are you doing here?"

There were only a handful of people bold enough to come in at this hour, and even fewer who'd make such a commotion.

Archer Winters flopped down beside him, mainly because there was nowhere else to sit. He handed Maxwell a cigarette and lit one up for himself, "You think I wanted to come? The head honcho called my secretary, told me to drag your ass out of here. If you're gonna kick the bucket, don't do it on their turf."

Maxwell glanced at the man puffing smoke next to him and muttered, "No smoking in the hospital."

"You’re preaching about rules now? You brawled in a hospital? Fine, you brawled, but then you got your ass handed to you and refused treatment. Now they're freaking out, pulling strings left and right to get someone to pick you up, scared stiff you'll croak on their property. And here you are, telling me I can't smoke?"

Maxwell glared at him, all menace.

Archer sneered, "What, you haven't had enough? Wanna go another round? You really want to end up like a piece of crap no dog would sniff at?"

"Get lost..."

Archer flicked ash from his cigarette, "Spill it. What went down? Why'd you suddenly start swinging at Martin?"

"It's nothing."

Your wife running off with another man, and that man being your bro of over a decade – that's the kind of embarrassment no one wants to broadcast.

Archer quirked an eyebrow, "Suit yourself. I'll get a doc in here to check you out. If you're not dying, get the hell up and move to a different room. The cleaning crew needs to do their job."

He snuffed out his half-smoked cigarette and stood up, "Oh, by the way, Victoria's outside."

Maxwell frowned, "You brought her?"

Archer: "Do I look like I have time to kill? She was already in the lobby when I got here, been sitting there for God knows how long. If you want to see her, I'll let her in. If not, I'll take her with me when I leave."

Maxwell placed the cigarette between his lips and with a flick of the lighter, set it ablaze.

After a few puffs, he spoke indifferently, "Let her in."