Chapter 437

Julian Whitmore studied Donovan Blackwood's medical charts with growing concern. His fingers tightened around the clipboard as he reviewed the brain scans.

Evelyn Carter moved closer and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

The doctor froze. His gaze dropped to her slender fingers, then lifted to meet her pleading eyes that shimmered with unspoken desperation.

"Aunt Julian," Evelyn whispered, forming the words carefully with her lips. "Give him hope."

Understanding dawned in Julian's eyes. He cleared his throat before addressing Donovan. "Your neural pathways show promising activity. With specialized acupuncture and intensive physical therapy, walking could be possible within twelve months."

He adjusted his glasses. "As for your vision impairment, it's caused by pressure from a subdural hematoma."

"The hematoma's location makes surgery extremely risky. You've undoubtedly heard this from other physicians. The standard craniotomy carries less than one percent survival odds." Julian paused dramatically. "However, my modified procedure increases those chances to ten percent."

Rosalind Fairchild's hands flew to her mouth. She rushed forward and grabbed Julian's sleeve without thinking. "Dr. Whitmore, is this true? Donovan could really see again? Walk again?"

Julian wasn't entirely confident himself. He'd only promised Evelyn to offer hope. "Absolutely. With proper treatment."

Tears spilled down Rosalind's cheeks as she turned to Donovan. She knelt beside his wheelchair, clutching his limp hand. "Did you hear that? One of the world's top neurosurgeons says you can recover! You can't give up now!"

Donovan's brow furrowed behind his dark glasses. "Wouldn't your paycheck disappear if I got better?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Why the sudden concern?"

Rosalind's smile faltered. After a weighted pause, she matched his tone. "You're absolutely right. I should keep you blind and paralyzed. Job security, you know."

Donovan scoffed and jerked his hand away.

A thunderous crash shattered the tense moment as the front door exploded inward. Everyone spun toward the entrance where Adrian Castillo stormed in, flanked by armed guards, his face a mask of fury.

He snatched the medical file from Julian's hands and hurled it across the room. "Have you lost your damn mind?" Adrian snarled, veins bulging in his neck. "We're in the middle of a crisis and you're playing doctor?"

Evelyn's hands balled into fists at the sight of Adrian. The man who'd nearly killed Liam Blackwood. She'd make him pay someday.

Julian lowered his head in silent admission of guilt.

"Separate them," Adrian barked to his men. "Post guards at each location."

"You can't split us up!" Rosalind protested. "He's completely dependent! He needs constant care!"

Adrian's cold gaze flicked to Donovan. Something unreadable passed across his features. Even a ruthless man couldn't bring himself to harm the decorated former narcotics agent.

"Fine. Those two stay together," Adrian relented.

"I demand to stay with Evelyn!" Rosalind Baskins shouted, but Adrian ignored her. Within moments, armed men herded them into different rooms.

Once alone with Donovan, Rosalind collapsed onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, staring at the ceiling.

"Twenty-five years," she muttered. "Twenty-five miserable years. And now I'm going to die in some explosion before I've even lived." She rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow. "No romance. No passion. No marriage. No children."

She kicked her legs like a petulant child. "I haven't even tried lobster thermidor! This is unacceptable!"