Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 136: Wait Until Shane Donovan Wakes Up
The light in the hospital room was clear, and the silence was so profound that the faint sound of the IV drip could be heard.
On the bed lay a man, face pale, wearing a breathing machine, his chest rising and falling slowly—a completely unfamiliar middle-aged man.
It wasn’t him.
Stella Sterling stood frozen at the door, all the blood in her body seemed to freeze instantly, then rushed backward, making her eardrums buzz.
She could even hear the crack of her heart breaking, very light, yet it sent a numbing sensation through her whole body.
She slowly took a step back, her movements as sluggish as a rusty machine, then gently closed the door.
The soft click of the door closing echoed clearly in the empty corridor.
As she turned around, she was met by a pair of eyes that seemed both smiling and not.
Julian Sullivan, appearing out of nowhere, stood a few steps away from her, watching her leisurely, his eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses carrying a tinge of amusement.
"Counselor Sterling," he spoke, his voice gentle, "What a coincidence? Or are you... following me?"
Stella’s face turned deathly pale, her lips moved, but no sound came out.
Days of fatigue, anxiety, coupled with the enormous disappointment she had just experienced, drained all her energy.
Julian took a step forward, leaning in slightly, close enough for her to see the embarrassed reflection in his lenses.
"Allow me to remind you," his tone remained calm, yet carried an invisible pressure, "Counselor Sterling, what do you call following someone without permission, or even trying to break into a private space? Hmm?"
Stella closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was nothing left but a lifeless stillness.
She had no strength to argue with him, nor any thought to entangle herself.
"Sorry, wrong room." Her voice was terribly hoarse, as she bypassed him, stumbling toward the elevator, her silhouette so fragile it seemed like it could shatter at any moment.
Julian stood where he was, watching her spiritlessly walk into the elevator, the numbers descending layer by layer, until stopping at the first floor.
The slight smile on his face gradually faded, his gaze becoming deep and inscrutable.
Just then, the hospital room door behind him was gently pushed open, and a nurse came out quickly with a joyful expression: "Mr. Sullivan! The patient just moved a finger, and there was a significant change in the brain wave monitor! Although he’s not awake yet, it’s a very good sign! It seems to be triggered by external stimuli..."
Julian turned his head, looking through the not fully closed door at the still comatose man on the bed, his eyes flickering slightly.
He curled his lips, the curve carrying an indescribable mockery, as if talking to himself, his voice low enough for only himself to hear: "Shane Donovan, your love-crazed brain... is a bit over the top, isn’t it?"
He paused, his tone eerie, with a hint of incredulous disdain: "Just hearing her voice, through the door, can provoke a reaction from you? Don’t love too much, okay?"
The reason he hadn’t revealed a single thing to Stella before was because even he couldn’t fully determine how deep the waters behind the explosion were, and didn’t dare to easily expose Shane Donovan, the only surviving card.
Now, seeing Shane Donovan’s almost instinctive physiological reaction, a certain speculation in his heart seemed to be further confirmed.
However, the opponent remained hidden in the shadows, and he still didn’t dare to take risks.
After all, those people were probably watching Stella’s every move too...
If she does anything unusual, it might alert the enemy.
"Continue to observe, and notify me immediately of any developments." He instructed the nurse, his voice returning to its usual calmness.
Still have to wait.
Wait until Shane Donovan fully wakes up.
...
Stella didn’t know how she drove back to the law firm.
Her mind was blank, her hands and feet were icy cold, and the road and neon lights before her became a blurred backdrop.
The massive gap from hope ignited to hope dashed, nearly destroyed all the mental defenses she had forcibly built over the past few days.
She parked the car, dazedly pushed open the car door, her steps unsteady as she walked toward the law firm entrance.
Just as she stepped onto the steps, a figure suddenly darted out from the side, blocking her path.
"Stella!"
The familiar yet annoying voice caused Stella’s unfocused eyes to gather for a moment.
Jasper Hawthorne stood before her, winded, his face full of urgent concern.
He was thinner compared to the last time they met, wearing a long black coat, making his face appear sickly pale.
"I heard about... The Donovan Family’s situation." His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice dry, "I... just got back from abroad."
Stella looked at him, her gaze devoid of any ripple, only a barren desolation remained.
"Oh." She responded, emotionlessly.
Then she turned, continuing to push the office door.
"Stella!" Jasper took a step forward, instinctively trying to grab her wrist.
Stella reacted as if touched by a venomous snake, jerking away forcefully, causing Jasper to stagger a bit.
"Don’t touch me!" She finally raised her eyes to look at him, her gaze icy to the bone, "Get lost."
"I just care about you..." A hint of hurt flashed in Jasper’s eyes, but there was more of a stubbornness, "I know you’re upset, but you can’t go on like this! Just look at yourself now! For a..."
"Shut up!" Stella interrupted him sharply, her chest heaving slightly with anger, those lifeless eyes finally igniting a bit of fire, but it was hatred, "Jasper Hawthorne, what right do you have to stand here and say these things to me? Huh? My affairs are none of your concern! I don’t want to see you now, not even for a second! Get out!"
Her voice wasn’t loud, but each word was piercing, filled with total rejection and disgust.
Jasper was nailed to the spot by the hatred in her eyes, his face paling further.
He clenched his hands hanging by his sides, the knuckles turning white.
That long-suppressed unwillingness and obsession, mixed with the sharp jealousy that arose from seeing her so haggard for another man, almost broke through his reason.
"I’m not leaving." He stared at her, his gaze obsessive and frightening, "Shane Donovan is already dead! He’s not coming back! Stella, look at me, I’m still here! We..."
But he couldn’t finish his words.
A figure charged from the law firm’s entrance with a fierce gust of wind!
Rhys Lennox!
He wore a black motorcycle jacket, a few strands hanging messily over his forehead, adding a touch of wild ferocity.
His gaze was grim, his target clear, crossing over to Jasper in a few strides.
"You bastard, looking for death!"
Without any warning, Rhys swung his fist abruptly!
The punch carried a whistling wind, swift and fierce, landing squarely on Jasper’s jaw!
"Bang!"
A dull thud.
Jasper, caught off guard, was knocked directly to the ground by the punch, his back crashing heavily into the adjacent decorative plant, the pot shattering, dirt splattering.
He grunted, the corner of his mouth instantly splitting, trickling with blood.
Rhys looked down at him, flexing his wrist, the joints making a slight cracking sound.
"Who said you could touch her?" Rhys’s voice was hoarse, carrying an irreverent ferocity.
Jasper propped himself up on the ground, trying to stand, his eyes glowering at Rhys.
But Rhys didn’t give him a chance, stepping forward, kicking him in the shoulder, sending him back to the ground, his shoe grinding on his coat.
"Don’t understand human words? She told you to get lost."
Rhys bent down, grabbing Jasper’s collar, forcing him to lift his head, the two locking eyes in the air, one fierce and brazen, the other restrained and twisted, "Stay away from her in the future. If I see you around her again..."
Rhys paused, leaning close to his ear, speaking in a voice only the two could hear, every word laced with menace:
"I’ll break your hands."
