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Chapter 463
Chapter 463:
Easton did not open his laptop. He did not check a single email. He sat shoulder-to-shoulder with her on the uncomfortable chair and gently guided her head down to rest against his broad shoulder.
At three in the morning, the temperature in the hospital dropped. June began to shiver.
Easton immediately removed his heavy cashmere overcoat and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, cocooning her in his warmth and the quiet scent of his cedarwood cologne. He walked to the vending machine, bought a cup of black coffee, and tested the temperature against his own wrist before sitting back down and holding the paper cup to June’s lips, coaxing her to drink.
The first pale rays of morning finally pierced the lobby’s glass windows.
The red emergency light above the doors clicked off.
The vet walked out, pulled down his surgical mask, and exhaled a long, exhausted breath. Then he smiled. “The dialysis worked. Snowball is out of the woods p>
The tight, agonizing knot in June’s chest dissolved in an instant. Her lungs expanded, drawing in a full breath of air. Tears of pure relief flooded her eyes.
She turned and threw herself at Easton, hugging his neck with everything she had.
“Thank you,” she sobbed into his collar. “Thank you, Easton p>
𝖰𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗇
Easton wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin gently on the top of her head. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair. When he opened them again, a dark, possessive gleam had settled deep within them — quiet and absolute.
A nurse appeared and gently guided June down the hall to see the sleeping rabbit in his incubator.
Easton did not follow. He remained in the empty hallway, reached into his pocket, and dialed his senior security assistant.
His voice was a block of solid ice.
“Pull every second of security footage from June’s apartment building from last night,” he said. “Find out exactly who poisoned that rabbit p>
At nine o’clock in the morning, June stood outside the veterinary center. The bright Manhattan sun stung her tired eyes.
She had just confirmed with the nurses that Snowball was resting comfortably and responding well to the IV fluids. She had insisted Easton return to his law firm for his morning meetings, then hailed a yellow cab and rode back to her Tribeca apartment alone.
She pushed the front door open.
The living room was exactly as she had left it. The heavy biometric lockbox sat on the floor where she had dropped it. A small puddle of dried white foam stained the expensive Persian rug. Her heart gave a painful kick against her ribs at the sight of it.
Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Abbie, her personal assistant at Apex Bio.
“June,” Abbie said, her voice tight with concern. “I just checked the building’s security logs like you asked. The cameras show a man dressed in a generic courier uniform leaving an anonymous cardboard box outside your door at seven last night p>
June frowned. She walked to the entryway.