?Chapter 1337:


    William didn’t answer right away. He was leaned back in his seat, legs crossed, fingers tapping idly against the window. When he finally looked over, his tone was dry. “What makes you think you’re in any position to negotiate?”


    She had expected that. Still, she tried again.


    “What’s the point of taking it away? I’m not leaving. I can’t leave. You’ve made that pretty clear. What difference would it make?” Her voice trembled, but her reasoning was calm. Practical.


    Family, friends—they’d tried. None of them could take her away.


    But William could hear the subtle shift in her tone. The way she mentioned her phone, but really meant Marc.


    He scoffed. “Do you seriously think I’m dumb enough to let you call him?”


    Ste blinked, stunned.


    William cracked the window, letting in a sharp breeze. “It’s not a good look, Ste. Thinking about another man while you’re in my car.”


    The nerve of her.


    Even if he knew Marc wouldn’te for her—it still pissed him off that she hoped he might.


    Ste looked away, her voice small. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”


    She shouldn’t have asked. Shouldn’t have let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, he would show somepassion after everything.


    But no.


    William Briggs didn’t dopassion.


    He just couldn’t.


    He had stood beside her hospital bed and told her he wished she hadn’t survived.


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    She went quiet, the faint light in her eyes flickering out.


    William nced at her again but said nothing.


    As long as she kept clinging to Marc, he wouldn’t give her the phone.


    Meanwhile, news of Ste’s injury had finally reached Lance. He hadn’t gone to the yacht party. The moment William dragged Ste away, he’d lost the mood to celebrate.


    But when he heard from others what had happened onboard—how Nina had led a group to force Ste into drinking—whatever soft spot he still had for his cousin vanished.


    He tracked down her address personally and drove over. At the door, he knocked hard. After a long pause, soft, hesitant footsteps approached.


    When the door finally creaked open, he was ready to explode—until he saw Nina’s face.


    She looked wrecked. Pale, hollow. Her right hand was wrapped in thick white bandages, already soaked through with blood at the edges.


    His brows furrowed, jaw tightening. “Nina,” he said sharply, “what the hell did you do this time?”


    Nina hadn’t expected him to show up. And definitely not with that look in his eyes—usation, disappointment… something worse.


    Her lips trembled, and the tears came without effort.


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