Chapter 430 Family Questions.
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“Sure. Besides, I’d also want to wait till this cast is removed before meeting Grandma,” Quinn said.
In her current condition, she would only burden the old woman with worry.
“Good. Where are you staying now? Do you need me to arrange a ce for you?” Rowan asked.
“No need for that. I’m staying at Julius‘ ce. Take care of Lena, Rowan. I’ll head back on my own.” With that, Quinn braced herself on the crutches and pivoted toward the corridor, determination eclipsing every hint of fragility.
“I’ll drive you.”
“No need. Julius has already assigned a driver. Besides, you have your hands full. Oh, by the way, please tell Lena I was delighted to meet her today, and that I’m sorry her transnt will likely be postponed till six monthster.”
Rowan nodded. “All right.”
Six months was nothing; Lena and he could wait.
Moreover, if Julius had not appeared, despair would still be the only thing filling their hearts.
The elevator chimed again and slid open. Quinn stepped into the lobby’s sterilized hush, the faint re of fluorescent lights scattering across polished tile. Fabian waited near the
alert. information desk, back straight, hands folded behind him, eyes
Standing beside him, Gavin offered the soft, patient smile of a man ustomed to long nights in intensive care.
“Ms. Bridger, Mr. Whitethorn has asked me to escort you wherever you wish, should you be without transportation,” Fabian greeted politely.
“Where’s Julius right now?” Quinn asked, her voice low yet edged with urgency, as thete- afternoon light carved sharp angles across her profile.
“Mr. Whitethorn should’ve made it back to the hotel by now,” Fabian replied quickly, almost like a valet desperate not to disappoint.
“Good. I’ll head there too,” Quinn said, already turning as though the corridor itself had answered.
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Chapter 480 Family Questions
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With one eyebrow cocked in yful disbelief, Gavin strolled over to her. “You mean to tell me you still haven’t sealed the deal with Julius? The man hasn’t agreed to get back with you? he teased, voice half–taunt, half–concern.
Quinn shot him a sideways nce. “He actually said that to you?”
“Well, obviously. How else would I know?” Gavin huffed, rolling his eyes theatrically. “Come on, Quinn. Can’t you use some tactics to reassure him and deal with his insecurity? If you don’t know what to do, I can teach you.”
Quinn blinked, baffled. “Teach me? Teach me what exactly?”
“How to make him yourspletely,” Gavin said with wicked relish. “The fastest way to calm Julius is simple… im his body first, then his heart…”
Quinn rolled her eyes. If she hadn’t researched Gavin’s credentials and found him a celebrated surgeon, she might have mistaken him for a street thug.
“Have you forgotten that you warned me this morning not to overexert him?” she reminded calmly.
“How was I supposed to know you’d be so ineffective?” Gavin grumbled. “An entire night and still no green light from Julius. In any case, just be careful not to reopen the wounds. And if you need, uh, any medicine, feel free toe to me. I can get it for you.”
Quinn’sshes fluttered. “Medicine? Actually, yes, I think I do need you to get me some.”
Fabian’s stomach lurched at the exchange.
<i>My </i><i>goodness</i>… <i>Should </i><i>I </i><i>even </i><i>be </i><i>hearing </i><i>this</i><i>? </i>
After Quinn had secured the requested supplies, Fabian pulled the sedan around and chauffeured her back toward the hotel.
Inside the car, Fabian finally broke the silence, voice hesitant. “Mr. Whitethorn is still recuperating, Ms. Bridger. He might not, um, tolerate being medicated… So, maybe wait a few days?”
Quinn almostughed. She couldn’t believe Fabian thought she’d asked Gavin for that kind of “special medicine.”
“Rx,” she said. “I only requested the antiseptics and ointments Julius needs for his daily dressing change.”
Starting tomorrow, she nned to remove his bandages herself, recing them with
16:26 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b>27 B
Chapter 430 Family Questions
practiced, gentle hands.
Fabian exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders.
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Quinn tipped her chin toward Fabian, her eyes rippling with worry. “Tell me, Fabian. Does Julius frequently have nightmares?”
Back when she first worked for him as a bodyguard, she had seen those terrors throttling him awake. Later, once they began dating, the darkness seemed to case, as though her presence itself were a luby.
Fabian nodded. “Since you left, Mr. Whitethorn barely sleeps. Even when exhaustion finally drags him under, nightmares yank him upright again. Ms. Bridger, since the breakup, he has suffered more than you can imagine. Please don’t abandon him again this time.”
Quinn answered with the faintest hum, a sound so light it was almost a sigh.
<i>How </i><i>could </i><i>I </i><i>ever </i><i>leave </i><i>this </i><i>man </i><i>again</i><i>–</i><i>the </i><i>man </i>who <i>loves </i><i>me </i><i>as </i><i>if </i><i>every </i><i>beat </i><i>of </i><i>his </i><i>heart </i><i>were </i><i>on </i><i>loan </i><i>from </i><i>mine</i><i>? </i>
By the time Quinn returned to Julius‘ suite at the hotel, he was sitting before a monitor, chair pushed back, hosting a video conference with the Whitethorn Group’s top brass.
“Are you in a meeting? I’ll head to the bedroom first, then,” Quinn whispered before bending to unfasten her heels, intent on trading them for slippers.
“Wait. Let me do it,” Julius suddenly said as he rose from his chair, abandoning his executives half a continent away. He strode to the woman, knelt, and lifted her foot with reverence, fingers moving to slip the shoe free.
“No… These hotel floors are filthy. Get up, Julius!” she hissed, caught between mortification and tenderness<b>. </b>
“Stay still. If you move, it’d only be more difficult to take them off.”
Quinn’s muscles obeyed before her mind had the chance to argue.
The conference camera was pointed elsewhere, yet the microphone remained live. Every rustle of clothing, every soft gasp filtered straight into the headphones of the executives.
Deprived of visuals, the single soundtrack of breath and murmurs painted pictures far more vivid–and scandalous–than any image could.
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