Chapter 119
The sharp scent of antiseptic stung the air.
Nathan Evans struggled to open his eyes through muffled sobs, his blurred vision catching Mrs. Evans' swollen, red-rimmed eyes.
"Mom..." His voice came out hoarse.
Mrs. Evans jerked upright, tears spilling over. "Nathan! You're finally awake!"
Her trembling hand reached for his face but recoiled as if afraid to hurt him.
A dull throbbing pulsed at the back of his skull.
Nathan remembered Evelyn Roland's ice-cold expression before everything went black, his knuckles whitening from the memory.
"I'm fine." He forced a weak smile.
Mrs. Evans suddenly slammed her palm on the bedside table. "Who dares lay a finger on my son?"
Her meticulously maintained face twisted in fury, expensive silk scarf crumpling in her grip.
"Your father will handle this." Mr. Evans pulled out his phone, expression dark. "We'll investigate immediately."
The hospital door swung open.
The crisp click of heels echoed through the room.
Isabella Langley stood in the doorway holding a fruit basket, red lips curving. "Feeling better, Nathan?"
The Evans couple instantly switched to obsequious smiles.
"Miss Langley, you're too kind." Mr. Evans hurried forward. "You shouldn't have troubled yourself."
Isabella set the basket on the nightstand, her subtle perfume wafting through the air.
"Of course I'd come." She glanced down at Nathan. "After what happened at my birthday gala."
Nathan's breathing hitched.
This elegant, refined woman was worlds apart from that bitch who'd humiliated him.
"I heard..." Isabella lowered her voice. "It was over a woman?"
Mrs. Evans gasped.
"A man of your standing." Isabella traced the basket's satin ribbon. "No woman would refuse you."
She paused meaningfully. "Unless... the approach was wrong."
Fire burned in Nathan's eyes.
That slut had made a fool of him in public!
"I have a meeting." Isabella rose gracefully. "I'll visit again soon."
The Evanses practically tripped over themselves escorting her to the elevator.
The moment the door closed, Nathan smashed his fist into the nightstand.
The fruit basket toppled, sending crimson apples rolling across the floor.