Chapter 1202
No wonder she couldn’t wait to leave the moment he opened his eyes.
Did she really hate him that much?
Aunt Jean opened her mouth to keep venting, but Felix squeezed his eyes shut. “Get out,” he said, exhaustion heavy in his voice. “I want to be alone.”
Aunt Jean quickly pivoted. “Then let Madeline stay and keep you company.”
“No.” Felix shut it down instantly. “Both of you, get out.”
Madeline’s eyes welled up with tears. She wanted to plead with him.
She wanted to use her usual tricks.
But before she could utter a single word, Felix let out a low, furious growl. “Get out!”
The heart monitor beside the bed began to beep frantically in response to his spiking heart rate.
The attending nurse rushed in. “The patient needs to rest! Please leave the room immediately! You’re interfering with his recovery!”
Her tone left no room for argument.
Madeline and Aunt Jean had no choice but to retreat.
The room plunged back into silence.
Gradually, the rhythmic beeping of the machines steadied.
But his heart remained in turmoil.
It felt like they had truly reached the end of the line.
Some time later, the nurse returned to remove his IV.
Felix, who had been lying with his eyes closed, suddenly snapped them open. “When I passed out, was I holding a pair of cufflinks?”
“Yes,” the nurse replied. “I already handed them over to your wife.”
Felix bolted upright. The sudden movement tore at his fresh incision, sending cold sweat down his forehead, but he didn’t care.
“But she just said she didn’t see them!”
The nurse frowned. “I don’t know anything about that. If you don’t believe me, I can check the security footage.”
There were cameras in the recovery room.
“Please,” Felix urged, desperate to know what happened to them.
It didn’t take long for the nurse to find the footage. “It looks like your wife threw the cufflinks into the trash can.”
She hesitated before adding, “And housekeeping emptied those bins about thirty minutes ago.”
The moment the words registered, Felix threw off the covers and swung his legs out of bed.
“What are you doing?!” the nurse gasped. “You just had surgery! You can’t get up!” “Where is the hospital’s waste disposal?” Felix demanded, gripping her arm tightly. “It’s been half an hour. They’re probably gone by now. Just get back in bed!” she pleaded.
“Tell me where it is!” he pushed.
“…The first floor.”
Getting his answer, Felix let go of her arm. Fighting through the agonizing, tearing sensation in his chest, he dragged himself out the door.
His usually composed, handsome face was twisted into a mask of reckless
obsession, his eyes completely bloodshot.
The nurse tried to block his path. “You can’t go! You’ll rip your stitches!”
He ignored her entirely, his gaze
locked on the end of the corridoret
His voice was cracked and wildly out of tune, as if he were begging the universe, or perhaps himself.
“There’s still time… There has to be time, right?”
By the time Secretary Lynwood arrived, Felix was collapsed on the concrete floor of the waste disposal area frantically digging through a of refuse.
He could only use one arm.
The bandage on his injured shoulder was already blooming with fresh blood.
His normally immaculate fingers were coated in grime.
His movements were clumsy and frantic.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Still nothing.
His breathing grew harsh and ragged. Sweat plastered his hair his forehead. The man who was
of
always the Catic
restraint now
looked utterly broken:
But his eyes were feral, burning with a self-destructive manic edge.
“She threw them here… they have to be here,” he muttered hoarsely, fighting with the garbage as if his life depended on it.
He sifted through the same debris over and over, completely numb to the sharp objects slicing into his fingertips.