Chapter 885

The sterile hospital air was thick with tension when the doctor's voice cut through the silence. "Mr. Nathaniel, your test results are ready."

"Coming."

Lucian Graves watched as Nathaniel stepped out, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound accompanying his shallow breaths.

Then—the faintest creak of the door.

Rosalind Fairchild slipped inside, her footsteps silent against the tiled floor.

She shouldn’t have come.

But here she was, drawn like a moth to flame, unable to resist one last look.

Lucian lay motionless, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion. The stubble shadowing his jaw made him look almost vulnerable—a far cry from the powerful CEO the world knew.

Her chest tightened.

Back in Wintervale, he had been poor but full of fire. Later, as the head of Quantum Innovations, he had commanded every room he entered.

Now?

Now he looked broken.

A single tear escaped before she could stop it.

"You fool," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Her fingers trembled as she reached out, brushing lightly against his cheek. A silent prayer formed on her lips—Please, get better.

Then—

His hand snapped up, gripping her wrist.

Rosalind gasped.

Lucian’s eyes flew open, bright with triumph. "You came. I knew you would."

Before she could react, he yanked her forward, crushing her against his chest. His arms locked around her like iron.

"I knew you couldn’t stay away. You still love me. Admit it." His voice was rough with emotion. "Let’s forget this ever happened. Let’s go back to how we were."

Panic flared as she noticed the IV line in his hand—blood creeping backward. "Lucian, stop! You’re hurting yourself!"

"Never. If I let go, you’ll run again."

Desperation clawed at her. She shoved him back with all her strength. "I didn’t come for you! Nathaniel wouldn’t stop calling!"

His face fell.

"Now that I’ve seen you’re alive, I’m leaving."

She turned on her heel.

"Rosalind!"

The heart monitor shrieked as he ripped out the IV, stumbling after her. Weakness made his steps unsteady, but he caught her wrist before she could escape.

"Don’t go," he begged, his voice raw. "Please. I can’t lose you."

Her resolve wavered—but only for a second.

"Let me make this clear," she said coldly. "I don’t love you anymore."

His grip slackened. "What?"

"I. Don’t. Love. You."

One by one, she pried his fingers away.

Then she walked out—without looking back.

"Rosalind!"

His shout echoed down the hallway.

She didn’t stop.