After Westin left, Jonathan took a moment to compose himself and then quickly made his way to Clarisse's hospital room. Earlier, he had been heartbroken by her sudden coldness, but now, having learned the truth, he was angry—angry that she hadn't consulted him and had taken on such a dangerous mission alone.
What did she think of him, Jonathan? Was he so unworthy of her trust?
Yet, even as his anger simmered, he felt a pang of heartache for the suffering she had endured. His emotions were a tangled mess, but one thing was certain: once this was over, he would make sure she knew that he was the one person in this world she could always rely on.
Fuming, he reached her room. The two bodyguards outside her door eyed him with hostility. He casually tugged at his tie, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
"Do you really want to start something? On my turf, who do you think will come out worse?"
