?Chapter 1601:


    Ste clenched her teeth, perspiration forming along her hairline, her lips drained of color — yet her gaze remained locked on William’s distant figure. She recognized the profound, warring emotions swimming in his eyes, and the ache in her chest far exceeded the physical agony radiating from her arm. Her voice trembled, barely rising above a whisper. “William… I’ll be fine. Please don’t let this trouble you.”


    Tasha felt her heart twist with sympathy. Despite sustaining such a grievous injury, Ste’s first instinct was tofort William rather than herself.


    Ste’s words caused William’s expression to darken into something even more troubled. He pressed his lips into a thin, bloodless line, then finally pivoted away and climbed the stairs with determined strides, vanishing at the top.


    Ste released a quiet, disappointed sigh as she tracked his departure. She hadn’t seeded in lifting his spirits even slightly.


    Jewell arrived with impressive speed. Stepping through the door, he encountered the thick, metallic scent of blood and took in the ss fragments still littering the living room floor. His expression turned grave as he approached Ste, examined the wound, and immediately set to work disinfecting and preparing to stitch it closed.


    “The stitching will cause considerable difort. Do your best to bear it.”


    He fixed his attention on her arm, his voice strained and taut.


    Even knowing it would hurt, Ste shuddered when the needle first pierced her flesh. Jewell half-expected her to cry out — he’d treated countless patients who vocalized their pain freely — but Ste maintained her silence, biting down on her lip with fierce determination. Tasha stayed by her side throughout, and when the pain became unbearable, Ste gripped Tasha’s wrist tightly with her free hand, careful never to dig in her nails. She didn’t want to hurt her.


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    Jewell worked quickly,pleting the wound treatment and pressing painkillers and antibiotics into Ste’s hand before instructing her to rest.


    Tasha supported Ste back to the bedroom. Only after settling her inside did Jewell wipe the sweat from his forehead and make his way toward the study.


    William sat behind the desk, unmoving. The room was dark, the absence of light giving it a heavy, oppressive feel. Jewell entered, but William didn’t react. He remained in the same posture as before — stiff and distant, as though cut off from everything around him.


    With a quiet sigh, Jewell crouched in front of him and ced a few tablets in his palm. “You stopped taking your medication again, didn’t you? It’s been several days this time.”


    William offered no reply. He raised his hand and pushed the pills into his mouth, swallowing them without water, his throat working slightly. After a long moment, the tightness in his body eased. His breathing steadied, and he finally spoke in a low voice. “How is she?”


    Hearing William ask about Ste on his own initiative, some of the tension in Jewell’s chest finally lifted. “It’s been treated,” he said. “But the wound is deep. There’s a strong chance it will leave a scar.”


    At the mention of a scar, William’s eyshes trembled. He had never meant to hurt her. He knew how delicate her skin was, how carefully she had always been looked after. If her arm truly ended up scarred because of him, he knew he would never forgive himself.


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