Chapter 10
The atmosphere instantly froze. Just then, a nurse emerged from the patient's room to announce that the patient had woken up. Wesley didn't tease him any further. Instead, he offered a casual smile. "Go take care of her. I’ll be waiting for you at the bar."
In the ward, Chloe's high fever had just broken. The doctor informed her that she was experiencing a rejection reaction following her bone marrow transplant, insisting that these recurring fevers were taking a toll on her body.
Clutching Francis's hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears, Chloe murmured in a pained whisper, "Francis, my shoulder hurts... Everything hurts. I'm scared my body won't hold on much longer. Can you... can you marry me sooner?"
Francis's eyes were impassive as he gently withdrew his hand to caress her forehead, answering simply, "Okay."
Upon hearing his promise, Chloe melted into a pool of tenderness, leaning into his embrace.
Francis frowned, his body tensing awkwardly as if to push her away.
Sensing his hesitation, Chloe hugged him tighter, her eyes pleading as she attempted to unbuckle his belt.
She cooed, half in seduction, "Francis, actually... I can..."
Before she could finish, Francis seized her wandering hand.
Taking a step back, his expression was cool and detached, "Get some rest. I'm leaving."
Chloe reluctantly drew her hand back, her face flooded with disappointment. "Won't you stay with me, Francis?"
"Xenia is here. She'll take care of you."
"You know I want you!" Chloe protested, her heart not ready to surrender.
Francis's brow furrowed slightly, his voice steady and cool, "Chloe, I'm not divorced yet."
By all rights, considering Chloe had once saved his life and now lay seriously ill, he should have been willing to grant her wish unconditionally.
But some things seemed to have subtly lost their original idea.
"Francis, you know how I feel for you. If you can't marry me, I might as well die..." she said, covering her face and beginning to sob.
Francis looked at her, his expression a mixture of emotions, and made a promise, "I'll make it quick."
His footsteps receded into the distance.
A racket of crashes echoed from within the ward.
The nurse rushed in only to find the room in chaos. The bedside lamp lay shattered on the floor.
She stood shocked. The private ward patient, usually as frail as if on death's door, had unexpectedly lashed out with such strength.
In the next moment, a glass flew through the air with a whistling sound, heading straight for the nurse's face.
Just as it was about to strike, Xenia, who had followed her in, pushed the nurse out of harm's way.
The glass shattered against the wall.
Gasping for breath, the nurse had narrowly escaped injury.
"Chloe!" Xenia called out to the raging Chloe, then, with a stern voice, ordered the nurse, still sprawled on the floor, to leave the room at once.
After the nurse departed, Xenia quietly closed the door and walked over to grasp Chloe's wrist gently. "Chloe, getting worked up won't solve anything."
Chloe leaned into Xenia's embrace, her face etched with indignation. "Xenia, why won't Francis touch me? Has he fallen for someone else?"
"Don't jump to conclusions, Chloe. Mr. Getty has always been so kind to you. It's unlike him to be unfaithful."
"But he's never laid a finger on me, and yet he can sleep with that woman."
Bitterness dripping from her words, Chloe snatched a pile of photographs from beneath the bed and scattered them in all directions.
The photos all showed Harper and Francis in intimate moments.
Xenia gasped, hastily gathering and shredding them, then implored, "Chloe, I get that you have that woman watched, but why tail Mr. Getty, too? What if you get caught?"
"What else am I supposed to do?" Chloe said through clenched teeth, seething with resentment. "Am I supposed just to stand by and watch that temptress steal Francis away?"
Xenia tried to soothe her. "Chloe, you need to keep your cool. Didn't Mr. Getty just promise he’d marry you soon? Besides, you've saved his life. That woman can't hold a candle to that. Mr. Getty is a man of his word. he'll marry you for sure!"
"But Xenia, the person who saved him that time, wasn’t..."
Before she could finish, Xenia's hand swiftly covered her mouth.
"Chloe, we must take this secret to our graves, never to be spoken of again. You are the savior of Mr. Getty, understand?"
Chloe nodded.
...
Deep into the night.
Francis left the hospital and headed straight to a bar to meet Wesley.
Taking a seat, he silently picked up a glass and downed the contents in one go.
Slumping into the sofa, his pale arms draped casually behind him, with his long legs loosely crossed, his half-buttoned shirt exuded not a hint of debauchery but an almost ascetic allure.
"Hey, I thought you were coming to toast Robert's fresh start. What's with the moody drinking?" exclaimed Wesley, refilling their glasses. "Here's to Robert—rising from the ashes. May the road ahead be smooth."
The man mentioned, marked by a scar running from his temple to his eyebrow, a buzz cut—not conventionally attractive but exuding a defiant wildness—had a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Francis lifted his glass, and the three men clinked their drinks, downing them in unison.
Wesley chuckled, "Robert, you've really made a splash this time. After three years, no one could've guessed the Perot family would make such a comeback. The very people who cornered you back then are now scared out of their wits, dumping their stocks and getting ready to skip town."
Robert took a drag from his cigarette and offered a cool smile, "They won't get far."
He was determined to recoup every last cent owed to the Perot family.
Had anyone else made such a vow, Wesley would have dismissed it as arrogance.
But coming from Robert, he had to admit there was nothing the man couldn't accomplish.
When the Perot family collapsed, Robert's father shouldered the blame, ended up in jail, and passed away behind bars. His mother took her own life, jumping from a building. And yet, none of this broke Robert.
Now, after three years, he was back.
And those who conspired against him could only await their fate.
"What about Molly, the darling girl? What are your plans for her?"
Robert's gaze drifted, and he turned his head to let out a scoff, "Who are you talking about?"
Wesley was speechless for a moment, then brushed it off, "Ah, forget I said anything."
When disaster struck the Perot family, the Koch family, who had a marriage alliance with them, promptly called off the engagement. Shareholders jumped ship at the first sign of trouble, severing every lifeline Robert had.
Struggling abroad through countless perils, the scars on his return spoke volumes of his hardship.
After taking a sip of his drink, Wesley scrutinized the silent Francis, "Didn't you just see Chloe? Why so glum?"
Francis's distinctively sharp brows furrowed, signaling a cold intensity. He remained silent.
Reading the situation, Wesley smirked, "Did Chloe press you for a divorce?"
Francis nodded in irritation.
Everyone knew why Chloe had returned to the country.
Given Francis's indulgence toward Chloe, Wesley had thought this would be a no-brainer.
However…
With a sidelong glance, his eyes teasing, Wesley said, "If you don't want a divorce, then don't go through with it. Harper's pretty great, too."
Francis raised an eyebrow, "Didn't you just tell me to get a divorce?"
"I was just messing with you. I used to think Harper was after your money, but she's actually into you. And falling for someone is the silliest thing."
Francis furrowed his brows slightly and said quietly, "Chloe can't wait any longer."
Wesley sighed with pity, "It's too bad about Harper. She's such a catch — beautiful and with a great presence. She won't lack for suitors even without you."
Francis furrowed his brows tightly, grabbed a cigarette, and clamped it between his lips.
Wesley rambled on, "At the last soiree, a buddy of mine took a fancy to her and asked me to play matchmaker. Turns out she got hitched, and he was sighing over it."
Francis snapped his lighter shut and turned, his eyes dark with a warning. "Tell your friend to back off. She's off-limits!"
"You're on the verge of a divorce yourself and still playing the jealous ex?"
"She's mine to worry about."
Wesley studied him for a few seconds before a chuckle escaped his lips. "Man, you're not right in the head."
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