Chapter 460
Chapter 460:
Across the city, in the VIP wing of Manhattan General Hospital, Grayson lay face down on the sterile hospital bed. His entire upper back was wrapped in thick white gauze. The room smelled of burn ointment and iodine.
Belle sat in a chair beside him, slowly peeling an apple with a small knife.
“Gray, you are so foolish,” Belle murmured. “Getting hurt like this because of that woman p>
Grayson opened his eyes. His throat was raw.
𝖲𝘵𝗼rі𝗲ѕ you 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝗉𝘂𝘵 𝘥оw𝘯 о𝗇 𝗴alոо𝘷еl𝘴.со𝗺
“Shut up, Belle,” Grayson rasped. “Get out p>
Belle flinched. The knife slipped, cutting into the apple core.
“I am saying this for your own good!” Belle argued. “Daron was right. She is a curse p>
Grayson turned his head slightly. The movement sent a blinding spike of pain down his spine. His eyes were pitch-black.
“I said, get out,” Grayson whispered. “Do not make me repeat it a third time p>
Belle swallowed. She dropped the apple onto the tray, grabbed her purse, and hurried out.
The door clicked shut.
Grayson reached out with his left hand and fumbled for his phone on the bedside table. He unlocked the screen and opened his messages. He pulled up Isolde’s name.
He typed slowly with his thumb: Are you hurt?
A fresh wave of agony ripped through his back muscles. His hand spasmed. The phone slipped from his grip and struck his cheek before falling onto the mattress.
Grayson let out a bitter, exhausted breath. He didn’t pick it back up. He deleted the message in his mind.
She probably thought he had taken the boiling water for Belle anyway. What was the point of explaining?
The door opened again. Arthur walked in holding a tablet.
“Sir,” Arthur said quietly. “We have Carter Sterling’s itinerary for tomorrow. He is going to Carson Dynamics p>
Grayson felt his heart skip a beat. “Carter? The madman of Silicon Valley? What is he doing at Carson Dynamics p>
Arthur hesitated. “Rumor says he is very interested in Ms. Carson p>
Grayson gripped the white bedsheets with his left hand, squeezing until his knuckles popped. He ignored the searing pain in his back, his mind already shifting from agony to strategy. The jealousy was a fire — but he had always known how to use fire.
“Get our legal team on the phone,” Grayson said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “I want to know the penalty clauses in CloudPath’s current government contracts. And book me a flight to San Francisco for the ISSDC finals. I don’t care what the doctors say. Find a way p>
A black Tesla Roadster pulled up to the curb outside the Carson Dynamics laboratory. It had no license plates and no corporate logos.
Carter Sterling stepped out of the driver’s seat.
He wore a faded gray hoodie, dark denim jeans, and worn-out sneakers — he looked like a college student running late for a final exam. He was the CEO of CloudPath, a company with a market cap of hundreds of billions of dollars.
Isolde was waiting by the glass doors in a sharp, tailored navy suit.
Carter pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into the collar of his hoodie. He let out a low whistle as he looked at the brick building.