Disconnecting the call, he gripped the phone tightly, a newfound rage surging within him.
What happened to Stella snapped the last thread of his patience.
This time, no one would escape retribution.
Not a single soul.
An eerie silence enveloped the corridor until the red light above the emergency room went out.
Matthew leapt to his feet and approached the medical staff.
“Mr. Clark, the patient is stable. She’s been moved to her ward. Her neck wound is treated, and other injuries are superficial. However, she suffered a blow to the head and needs monitoring for possible concussion,” the doctor reported.
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“I understand,” Matthew replied, his eyes icy.
He made his way to Stella’s ward.
When he opened the door, Matthew saw a nurse inside.
Stella lay in the bed, unconscious. Although cleansed of the blood, her face was still unnaturally pale.
As the nurse reached for an ointment, Matthew said, “Give it to me.”
Taken aback but compliant, the nurse handed it over, explaining, “This ointment is for reducing bruising.”
Matthew nodded, accepting the ointment.
The nurse exited, closing the door behind her.
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Seated beside Stella, Matthew tenderly applied the ointment to the bruises on her face.
His touch was delicate, his breathing subdued as if he were handling the most fragile of treasures.
He completed the application and washed his hands, returning to find Stella stirring.
She furrowed her brows, looking deeply distressed.
Matthew’s heart clenched. He sat back down, gripping Stella’s hands firmly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take better care of you from now on,” he murmured.
Then, he ki*sed her hand.
Thoughts of the evening’s events still haunted him.
Had he arrived just five minutes later, he would have lost her forever.