Chapter 563 I Am Sick
Winona tugged at the collar of her sweater, revealing the red marks on her skin. "You can't tell me you weren't thinking dirty thoughts last night," she said, pointing at the evidence.
Zachary felt a bit wronged. They were married, after all. Wasn't it normal for him to kiss his wife?
"I'm a guy, a normal guy. It's natural to feel desire for the woman I love, right?" he argued.
Winona rolled her eyes, a faint blush coloring her smooth earlobes. "Even if you have those urges, you should control them."
Zachary sighed. "It's not that easy to control."
After all, there's a reason people say men think with their lower half.
"Who says it's not?" Winona's raised eyebrows and half-smiling eyes made Zachary suspect he wouldn't like what she was about to say. He was about to change the subject when she continued coolly, "You had a crush on me for years, and we've been married for three years. You managed to control yourself just fine then, didn't you?"
Even Rebecca thought Zachary had no interest in Winona and that their marriage was just due to pressure.
Zachary's confidence wavered at the mention of the past, and his voice softened. "When I had a crush on you, you were still young. Even if I had feelings, I couldn't show them. And after we got married, I didn't touch you because I was sick."
Winona couldn't help but laugh. It was the first time she'd heard someone admit to being sick so openly.
Seeing Zachary's hopeful eyes, her heart softened. She hugged him gently. "The doctor said you need to rest. If you don't recover properly, you'll have lasting issues. So, no matter what thoughts you have, you need to control them. If you end up crippled or brain-damaged, you'll regret it."
Zachary's thumb gently stroked Winona's cheek as he asked, "So, once I'm better, it's okay?"
"You need to focus on healing first," Winona replied, not directly answering but not refusing either. To Zachary, that was a yes.
On the third day of Zachary's hospital stay, the police issued a death notice for Timothy. It detailed the source of the explosives that had caused public panic and identified Timothy as the mastermind behind the illegal fundraising scheme, providing evidence. The victims, who had been protesting outside the Ramsey Group building, were furious.
Timothy was the mastermind, but now he was dead. How were they supposed to get their money back?
They turned their anger on Nicholas, refusing to let him off the hook.
"How much did Nicholas pay you to produce fake evidence?"
"Blaming a dead man? Aren't you afraid of karma? Do you think you can fool us with some hastily gathered evidence? I don't believe Timothy was the mastermind."
"Nicholas, do you think we'll believe these so-called proofs? Timothy never worked at the Ramsey Group. How could he scam people under its name without your approval? The contracts we signed have your company's seal."
Timothy might not have officially worked at the Ramsey Group, but he had people in every department. Many decisions bypassed Nicholas. Zachary, a temporary CEO, hadn't even fully grasped the company's operations. It was easy for someone to cause trouble behind his back and keep it hidden for a while.
In simpler terms, if Nicholas was the king, Timothy was a minister, and the real power lay with the prime minister behind the scenes.
But the public didn't know the complexities. Even if they did, they wouldn't admit it. Acknowledging Timothy as the mastermind meant they might never recover their money, so they clung to blaming Nicholas.
"Stealing our hard-earned money and trying to shirk responsibility? You deserved to be injured. Why didn't the explosion kill you?"
"Damn it, does anyone know which hospital Nicholas is in? I'll kill him myself. My mom's over seventy, and that was her life savings. If he took it, I'll make sure he pays."
The news, which had died down, surged back into the headlines. The hospital's address and Nicholas's room were exposed. The victims were furious, and the public, while gloating, also condemned Nicholas as a heartless bastard. Even official statements couldn't calm the storm.
Meanwhile, in a villa abroad, a man swept everything off a table in a fit of rage. The room was dark, and his voice was menacing. "I told you to bring him back. Why is he dead?"
"It was Mr. Perez," another voice replied, trembling, "Mr. Perez said he had to kill Zachary before leaving. He said it was his mistake and he had to correct it, or he couldn't face you."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. The speaker's heart pounded, nerves stretched taut. Sometimes, silence was more terrifying than an outburst.
After what felt like an eternity, the angry man behind the desk finally spoke. "What an idiot."
The trembling man didn't dare respond. He wasn't sure if the insult was directed at Timothy or himself. He feared any movement might shatter the fragile balance.
Zachary was discharged after five days. His concussion had improved, but his fractures needed time to heal. Staying in the hospital wasn't much help. During his stay, reporters nearly broke down the hospital doors. If not for security, he would have been swarmed by victims and journalists.
They left through the emergency exit.
Back at Regal Oaks, Zachary glanced around the living room, not seeing what he was looking for. His lips turned down slightly. "Where are the flowers I gave you?"
Winona was about to say they were upstairs but changed her mind. "I threw them out. They were fresh flowers and wouldn't last. They're probably a mess by now."
She planned to surprise Zachary later but wanted to let him feel a bit down first. He often scared her with his antics, and she felt she might die of fright one day because of him.
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