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Fitch and Martin, relief etched across their faces, were like survivors of a catastrophe, grateful for every breath they took.
Only Serena maintained a facade of calm, though inside her, a storm raged.
As a nurse wheeled out a gurney, Fitch quickly approached it. Leaning over, he whispered tenderly, “Diana, can you hear me? It's
Fitch, I'm here for you.”
“The anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, she’s still unconscious and can't hear you,” the nurse informed him. “Family members, please
follow me. There are a few things you need to know.”
Fitch hurried to keep pace with her. “What things?”
“Are you a relative?” the nurse glanced at him and continued, “I'll show you how to read sof the equipment and vital signs in
the ICU. That way, you'll know when to ring for help and when there’s no need.”
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Fitch followed her into the room.
Serena tugged at Martin's hand anxiously, “Shall we go?”
Fitch was too intimidating, and she couldn't bear another second in his presence.
Although Martin wanted to stay with his sister, considering the hostility between Fitch and Serena, he decided to head back to the
sixteenth floor where his parents were staying.
He arranged for a VIP room for Serena to rest in after her bath. When tcto sleep, he gave her the bed and unfolded a cot
for himself.
Meanwhile.
Arabella had Stinger locked up in the basement of Reflections Villa.
Since the incident with Erik, she had increased security, making it the safest place to keep an eye on their captive.
Once the cap and mask were removed, Stinger revealed a face that was young yet weathered, indifferent, and numb. His eyes
were devoid of human emotion, making him seem callous and detached.
Arabella had noticed the distinctive knife scar on his hand when she captured him at the airport. His features matched the clues
they had, leaving no doubt that he was the one who paid Yolanda to commit murder.
“You told Yolanda you were my enemy, that you wanteddead more than she did, but couldn't show yourself. | don’t know you,
though. We have no history,” Arabella confronted him.
Stinger’s expression remained impassive, silent in the face of her accusations.
It was as if he was waiting for death, his lifeless gaze betraying no hint of vitality.
“Damn it, my boss is talking to you!” Jack punched him in the stomach, annoyed by the lack of response.
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Stinger merely winced in pain but made no sound.
“Tough guy, huh?” Jack raised his fist to strike again.
Arabella gave him a look, signaling him to stop.
At that moment, a bodyguard hurried over, “Ms. Bella.”
He seemed to have urgent news.
Arabella walked over and listened as he whispered, “Your aunt and uncle are here, and it seems they're here for Stinger.”
With a cold smirk, Arabella said, “News travels fast, huh? Jack, keep things tight here. Don't let anyone get the upper hand.”
“Yes, boss,” Jack responded, standing guard.