Chapter 407
[ 533 words ]
Chapter 407:
The apology didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t speak. Instead, he reached out with his uninjured right hand, cupped her chin, and pulled her into a kiss. It wasn’t gentle. It was a hard, punishing brand, a raw assertion of claim and a sharp reprimand for her transgression. He kept his left hand carefully shielded, his movements focused entirely on her lips. It lasted a breath too long before he abruptly released her.
“Don’t ever suggest that again,” he said, his voice a low, controlled threat. “That’s not a line you get to dance on. Not ever.”
She nodded, a little breathless, thoroughly chastened. The lesson was learned.
He took a deep breath, and some of the ice melted from his eyes. He shook his head slowly, as if resigned to a lifetime of being tested by her. “We’re going to have to work on your sense of acceptable joking,” he muttered, half to himself.
He straightened his shirt, visibly compartmentalizing the flash of rage, and took her hand again with his right. This time, the grip was firm, possessive, and unequivocal. He said nothing more, simply leading her forward again.
As they rounded another corner into the main corridor of the surgical wing, a man stepped into their path, blocking their way. He was in his fifties, though the pallor of his skin and the slight tremor in his hands betrayed the toll of his glioblastoma treatments. Donovan Sinclair looked at them with a mixture of fatigue and cold calculation.
Caroline saw him and froze. The warmth in her expression vanished. She instinctively tried to pull Jarrod in the other direction, but it was too late.
“Caroline,” he said, his voice a low, calm baritone. “We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” she replied, her voice clipped and cold. She refused to even look at him.
Jarrod said nothing. He simply shifted his position, moving slightly in front of her, a subtle, protective gesture. His grip on her hand tightened as his eyes, sharp and analytical, took Donovan Sinclair’s measure.
𝖩𝗼𝗂𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘤o𝘮𝘮𝘶𝗻ity o𝗇 g𝖺𝘭𝗇о𝗏e𝗅s.𝘤оm
Donovan Sinclair ignored Jarrod completely. His focus remained solely on Caroline. “It’s about your mother’s legacy, and the debt that was accruing in your name…”
At the mention of the debt, Caroline’s body went rigid. Donovan Sinclair pressed his advantage, his voice smooth. “…has been taken care of. An anonymous third party settled the account in full this morning.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. Anonymous. She slowly lifted her head, her eyes finding Jarrod’s. He gave a nearly imperceptible nod. He had handled it. Silently. Completely.
A wave of overwhelming gratitude washed over her. She turned her gaze back to Donovan Sinclair. The fear and resentment were gone, replaced by a cool, almost challenging calm. She deliberately lifted her hand, the one Jarrod was holding, making their intertwined fingers impossible to miss.
“Is that so?” she said, her tone light, almost dismissive. “Well, that’s wonderful news.”
She looked him directly in the eye. “It does make me wonder, though, Mr. Sinclair. My getting married was a fairly significant event. How is it that you, as my… ‘biological father’… seem so surprised by it?”
She loaded the title with so much sarcastic weight it practically dripped poison.
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