Nelson had washed up a bit and now sat by the hospital bed, elbows resting on his long legs, lost in thought. His side profile was shadowed and unreadable. Callie was still under anesthesia, not yet awake. Her lips were pale, and her face was wrapped in bandages, making her look utterly defenseless.
He stared at her for quite a while. His phone buzzed in his pocket for a long time before he finally stood up and walked to the balcony to answer it, just before the caller lost patience.
Callie slept through the night. It was only the next morning, when the anesthesia wore off, that she struggled to open her eyes and was greeted by Nancy’s worried face.
“Ma’am, you’re finally awake. I made some honey bird’s nest soup. Drink it while it’s hot.” Nancy was overjoyed to see her awake, holding a bowl up to her.
Callie shook her head. “Aren’t I in the hospital?” How did she end up in Paucaster Villa Complex?
“Mr. Oconnor brought you back early this morning.”
Callie touched her face, feeling the bandages. “Where is he?”
“Mr. Oconnor is in the study with a guest.”
Her mind still foggy, Callie got out of bed and ran to the mirror. Half her face was wrapped in bandages, looking hideous. She remembered Trevon’s slash being quite long.
“Ma’am, don’t worry. The doctor said the cut isn’t deep. It will heal soon and won’t leave a scar.”
“But I have a scar-prone constitution,” Callie said disheartenedly. Even a minor cut would bruise her for ten days to half a month. This long gash on her face was much worse.
If she was disfigured, who would ever look at her again?
Callie slumped down, her back radiating despair. It was all Joaquin’s fault. To save that scumbag, she had risked everything! If she had known, she wouldn’t have gone.
Thinking of Joaquin, Callie was jolted. No, she still had to find Nelson.
“Ma’am!” Nancy called out, watching her run out barefoot.
The study door was ajar. Callie pressed herself against the wall, listening to the conversation inside. Bridger had come.
“Deshawn Wilcox is furious that his brother lost a hand. He’s threatening that even if Jaquan gets Vankey, he won’t cooperate with Oconnor Group. The rumors are spreading fast in the circle.”
Bridger was lounging on the sofa, legs crossed, sounding almost amused by the situation.
“Nelson, you were indeed too impulsive. Trevon Wilcox has been in the loan shark business for years, and his connections run deep. By attacking him, you’ve invited trouble, especially with the acquisition at stake. The price might be too high.”
Nelson was casually scrolling through his phone, his expression indifferent and calm.
“If Deshawn Wilcox were that capable, his worthless brother wouldn’t have been beat.”
Bridger chuckled. “So, Callie’s face worth that much to you? Worth risking Vankey?”
“It’s not worth much, and Vankey will still be mine in the end. It’ll just take a bit of maneuvering.” Nelson put down his phone, confident and unaffected, as if this incident didn’t faze him at all.
Bridger clicked his tongue. “What about Joaquin?”
“Keep him at your place. Make him suffer and work off the debt. Tell Trevon Wilcox it’s my apology gift,” Nelson said with a chilling smile. “After all, I was too heavy-handed. I owe him that.”
There wasn’t a hint of remorse in his tone, only a sense that he hadn’t hit hard enough.
Callie was engrossed in the conversation when Nelson suddenly looked towards the door. “Heard enough?”
She jumped, stumbling into the room, and fall into the shadows.