Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 8

The wound on her leg was wrapped in gauze, so it was hard to tell if it was infected or not, but that area was definitely swollen, sticking out prominently.

"Did you get a doc to check it out?"

His tone was so chilly; even her swollen leg didn't warrant a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, leaving Victoria puzzled and hesitant to play up her femininity.

"I had the doc redo the bandage. I think it might've gotten infected when I, uh, got it wet in the shower today."

Maxwell fished out his pack of smokes, snagged one, and popped it between his lips, blatantly ignoring the no-smoking sign on the wall. With a flick, his lighter flared to life, casting warm light on his sharp, icy features.

He took a drag, and then finally let his gaze fall back to Victoria's leg, "Victoria, you chose this path. Stick with it and don't sell yourself short. Don't trash the dream you're chasing after."

Victoria hadn't expected that response; she thought at least he'd show a bit of concern or offer some comforting words after seeing her injury.

After all, there was a time when he'd frown just seeing her splattered with oil, and he'd personally grab an ice pack to soothe the burn.

"Maxwell." She choked out a bit, her voice tight, "are you still holding a grudge against me?"

"There's nothing to hold a grudge about. It was your choice, and I chose to support it." Maxwell stamped out his cigarette, "It's your leg. If you don't wanna dance anymore, do whatever you want. I'm not coming back to this hospital."

With that, Maxwell left without a second glance.

Not long after he departed, Tracy walked in, "So? Did Mr. Templeton show any reaction to your injury?"

"He said he's not coming back to the hospital."

"Didn't you play the damsel in distress? I told you, guys dig it when their girl leans on them. You can't be all high and mighty like usual. That'll just push him further away."

Victoria thought of his impassive face and forced a smile that looked more painful than crying, "Under the circumstances, I bet if I'd dropped dead in front of him, he'd just calmly tell you to take care of my funeral."

Tracy fell silent, and then shook her head after a pause, "Guys have their pride, especially someone like Mr. Templeton, with all that power and status. When has he ever been tripped up by a woman? You just bruised his ego too much back then."

Victoria stayed silent, with a hint of self-mockery in her eyes. Was that really how it was?

The next day, with no need to be a caregiver at the Templeton Group, Rosemary slept in.

Yolanda had already headed to the shop and sent her a message, "The meeting with Oswald is set for tomorrow, but I've got clients to see, so I can't join you."

After graduating, Yolanda had opened an antique shop with some family backing, and she also helped Rosemary snag some gigs from time to time.

She texted back "Okay" and, after breakfast, headed out.

Moving out from Meadowlark Retreat, she needed to find a new place to crash. Staying close to work would be convenient.

Rosemary hit up a rental agency and locked down a two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment by noon. It was close to the studio, not too much furniture to worry about, and she could turn the spare room into her workspace.

The best part? The property was well-managed, requiring ID for entry and exit.