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Chapter 507

Chapter 507:

He threw himself out of the room and pulled the heavy door shut behind him with a soft click — just as June’s eyes slowly began to open.

Cole pressed his back flat against the cold wall of the hallway, squeezing his eyes shut, gasping for air. His heart hammered against his ribs like something desperate to escape.

He had run away like a coward.

Because that was exactly what he was.

Cole leaned heavily against the sterile hospital wall, his chest heaving as he dragged air into his burning lungs. He raked a shaking hand through his disheveled hair, trying to force the shattered pieces of his composure back into place.

A soft chime rang out at the far end of the hallway.

Cole opened his eyes and turned his head.

The silver elevator doors slid open.

Crawford Love stepped out.

He was wearing a dark, bespoke suit that looked like armor, carrying with him the faint, crisp scent of jet fuel and freezing altitude. He had just stepped off a transatlantic flight, but there was no trace of fatigue in his posture. He moved with the lethal, predatory grace of a wolf entering contested territory.

аddі𝗰tі𝘷𝖾 𝘴𝘁o𝘳𝗂е𝗌 𝘰ո ѕ.𝗰o𝘮

Their eyes locked across fifty feet of polished linoleum.

The air in the hallway instantly solidified. The temperature seemed to drop.

Crawford’s dark eyes swept over Cole — taking in the wrinkled suit, the red and bloodshot eyes, the undeniable evidence that Cole Compton had just been weeping outside June’s door.

A look of absolute, murderous disgust crossed Crawford’s face.

He closed the distance with long, aggressive strides and stopped less than two feet away, completely invading Cole’s physical space.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Crawford’s voice was a low, vibrating growl. It was not a question. It was a threat.

Cole’s spine stiffened. The vulnerability he had shown inside June’s room vanished instantly, replaced by the arrogant, territorial hostility of a man defending what he considered his.

“I am visiting my wife,” Cole spat, laying heavy, deliberate emphasis on the final word. “This is none of your business, Love p>

The word landed on Crawford like a physical blow. The muscles in his jaw locked so hard they looked as though they might crack.

Crawford let out a sharp, humorless laugh — a sound completely devoid of warmth.

“Your wife?” he said, his eyes burning with dark, violent fire. “You mean the woman you drove to hold a weapon to her own throat just to get away from you p>

The words were a serrated blade driven directly into Cole’s chest.

Cole’s face drained to ash. A blinding, irrational rage detonated in his brain. He lunged forward, seized Crawford’s lapels with both hands, and slammed him hard against the hospital wall.

“Shut your mouth!” Cole roared, his voice cracking with hysteria, his eyes wild and bloodshot. “You don’t get to talk about her! You don’t know anything p>

Crawford did not flinch. He did not attempt to break Cole’s grip. He simply stared back with a look of absolute, chilling superiority.