Chapitre 229

Julie’s POV

He was demanding that I leave the club if I truly loved him. He sat in his wheelchair directly in my line of sight, as if trying to corner me with his physical frailty and the weight of his influence.

"You want me to leave the club?" I asked, my voice dry and calm.

"Yes," he replied with unyielding severity.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to stifle the trembling in my body. "So, you’re trying to convince me that if I truly loved Robert, I’d abandon him?"

"Exactly," he answered with a lethal coldness.

I looked him straight in the eye. I felt a surging urge to scream, but instead, I simply asked, "Mr. Thomas, are you even aware of what you’re asking of me?"

He pointed a finger at me, his eyes filled with malice. "You are the reason he’s in this state!"

I took a step toward him, ignoring the aura of authority he wrapped around himself. "And you want to exploit my guilt to make me leave your son. You are very much mistaken, Mr. Thomas."

"Do you intend to end his life?" he asked irritably, glancing toward the operating room doors.

I clenched my fists. "I intend to spend my life with him. And because I love him, I cannot leave him."

He scoffed pessimistically. "He met you yesterday and already took a bullet in the back. I wonder what will happen after a month?"

I smiled bitterly and replied with a boldness that made him stiffen. "Don’t wonder, Mr. Thomas. You might not be around long enough to get that answer."

His features twitched. His hands shook against the armrests of his chair. "Are you implying that I’m going to die?"

"No one knows when they will die," I said indifferently. "But we can recognize those who are close to it."

He regained his cold exterior, giving me a calculating look. "Just as I expected. You aren’t easy at all."

I sighed in frustration. "You know, if Robert weren’t in there right now, I would be laughing out loud at your words."

He raised an eyebrow. "You find my words funny?"

"Very. Because you think I would leave him just because he got shot for me."

"I thought you possessed some humanity," he remarked sarcastically. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"You cannot demand what you do not possess yourself, Mr. Thomas," I retorted sharply.

Signs of exhaustion began to show on his face, but he pressed on. "So, you won’t leave my son even though he almost died?"

"No," I said firmly. "Because now, I love him even more."

"What do you want from him?" he asked with disdain. "Money?"

I let out a long, weary sigh. "Stop it, please. Are we really going to play the ’Rich Man and Poor Girl’ game? Are you going to offer me a staggering sum to leave your son? Is this truly your final move?"

He huffed, twisting his mustache, then spoke in a businesslike tone. "Fine. Perhaps we can reach an agreement. What is it you want?"

"I want Robert," I said without hesitation.

"My son won’t stay with you," he replied bitterly. "He will leave you in the end."

I gave him a wide, confident smile. "Shall I tell you something? Take those words of yours and put them... right back in..."

I paused. He stared at me, eyes wide, anticipating the profanity he expected to follow. But I finished coldly, "...in your mouth. And keep it shut, Mr. Thomas."

His expression froze. He understood exactly what I had intended to say. His shoulders slumped suddenly, and he looked at me with a strange, turbulent gaze. "You are so much like her," he whispered.

"Like who?" I asked, bewildered.

He didn’t answer. He turned his wheelchair in silence and left the room, leaving me with a question that gnawed at my mind.

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Don Morgan’s POV

I was standing in the corridor of my private hospital, pacing with heavy strides. I was waiting for any news regarding "The Serpent." Hours passed like an eternity, and no one had come out to reassure me yet.

James... I was the one who first dubbed him "The Serpent." He had a silent gait; I never knew how he did it, but he did it with masterful precision.

He strikes when you least expect it, and you don’t feel the blow until it has already landed. That’s why I called him The Serpent. I gripped my fists so hard my knuckles turned white, tension eating at my nerves.

Finally, the door opened. The doctor emerged, exhaustion written all over his face. I surged forward and gripped his shoulder, pressing down unconsciously. "Is he alive?" I boomed.

The doctor sighed regretfully. "He’s alive, but his condition remains critical, Mr. Morgan."

I froze. "How?" I barked.

"The bullet entered his chest and tore through lung tissue," the doctor replied, wiping sweat from his brow. "It took a long time to stop the bleeding, and he lost a significant amount of blood before reaching us."

In that moment, I felt my heart tearing, as if that bullet had lodged itself in my own chest. I grabbed the doctor by his collar, my fear manifesting as rage. "Do whatever it takes to keep him alive. Do you understand?"

The doctor nodded quickly, trying to slip from my grasp. "I’m doing my best, don’t worry."

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Julie’s POV

I saw the doctor re-enter the operating room, and my heart constricted. A chill ran through me; I feared something had gone wrong. Another thirty heavy minutes passed until some guards arrived and entered, later emerging as they carried Robert on a gurney.

He was still unconscious, his body perfectly still. I rushed toward them. "Where are you taking him?"

"We’re moving him to his room," the doctor replied, walking beside the gurney.

I followed them with stumbling steps. Once in the room, the doctor barked orders, telling them to handle him with care and to place him on his side rather than his back to avoid pressure on the wound. I watched them arrange pillows to support his position.

She hung an IV drip while another guard brought in a heart monitor. The doctor switched it on, and that steady beep... beep began the sound that reassured me he was still breathing.

"Is he okay now?" I asked, studying his pale face.

"Yes, don’t worry," she said calmly.

"I’m staying here with him," I insisted, gripping the edge of the bed.

She nodded. "As you wish. I’ll be monitoring his vitals from my tablet."

"When will he wake up?" I asked eagerly.

"Any moment now. The anesthesia has worn off," she said, heading for the door.

Once she left, I sat right beside him. I reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked his hair. Even wounded and sedated, he still looked powerful and invincible to me.

I sat there, tracing his still features and the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Moments later, I felt a slight movement. I heard him whisper in a raspy, barely audible voice. I leaned my ear close to his mouth to catch his breath.

"Julie..." he murmured weakly.

I took his hand firmly, squeezing it as tears of joy flooded my eyes. "I’m here, Robert," I whispered with all the love I possessed. "I’m right here."