Chapter 38
Chapter 38:
Cole did not look at the nurses or the doctors. He walked directly toward June and stopped in front of her, towering over her seated form.
His blue eyes were dark and burning.
“What did you say to her?” Cole demanded, his voice a low, venomous hiss.
June slowly raised her head. Her eyes were hollow, utterly emptied.
“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, barely above a whisper. “The newspaper and your divorce papers did the talking p>
Cole’s hand shot out. He seized her left wrist, his fingers digging in with enough force to bruise bone.
June flinched at the contact, but the days of silent endurance were behind her. The hollowness in her eyes ignited into something cold and defiant. She twisted her wrist sharply against his grip, refusing to be held.
“Take your hands off me,” she said, her voice laced with precise, unambiguous contempt.
“You snuck into my house,” Cole snarled. “You bypassed security just to shove those papers into the face of an eighty-year-old woman with a heart condition. You are sick, June. You’ll do anything for a payout p>
“Cole. Enough p>
One of the board members stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Cole’s shoulder.
𝘑𝘰𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯
“This is not the time for a domestic dispute,” the man said coldly. “The stock is already moving on news of the matriarch’s condition. Wall Street is watching every development p>
Cole did not release her wrist. He glared at the older man.
“I want her removed from this hospital,” Cole snapped.
“No,” the second board member said, his tone leaving no space for negotiation. “You will withdraw all divorce motions immediately. You will shut down the PR campaign. If Eleanor dies today, the market will dismantle Compton Medical piece by piece. We cannot afford a public scandal running alongside a funeral p>
The muscles in Cole’s jaw worked. The tendons in his neck strained.
He was the CEO, but he answered to the board. He was being made to swallow his pride in a hospital corridor, and the taste of it was ash.
He gave a short, stiff nod.
The board members turned and walked toward the nurses’ station to demand an update from the attending physician.
Cole and June were left alone in the quiet corner of the hallway.
He released her wrist. He stepped forward, forcing June to stand and back up until her shoulders met the cold plaster wall. He planted both hands on either side of her head, caging her in.
“Your little pity play worked,” Cole murmured, his breath brushing her cheek. “You get to keep the title of Mrs. Compton a little while longer p>
June let out a short, dry laugh. It sounded like breaking glass.
“That title makes me physically ill,” she said, holding his gaze without blinking.
Cole’s eyes dropped. For the first time he registered the dark, wet stain spreading across her white shirt. A brief, involuntary flicker of confusion crossed his face — then he hardened his expression and forced it away.
“Nice touch,” Cole said, glancing at her abdomen. “Did you reopen a wound to make yourself look like the victim? You always were theatrical p>