Chapter 299

Three days later, outside the ICU, two men in black suits stood on alert, their eyes constantly scanning the area. A sleek black Bentley pulled up silently by the side entrance. The door opened, and Michael Anderson stepped out. Tall and lean, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored light grey suit. His sharp gaze cut through the air like a blade. "Move," he said calmly. His assistant stepped forward, speaking to the guards in fluent French. With a flick of his hand, he presented a document stamped with the Anderson family crest. The guards hesitated for just a second, and that was enough. Michael slipped past them and into the room, shutting the door behind him. On the hospital bed, Stella Johnson looked up at the sound. When she saw who it was, her eyes widened—Michael Anderson? What on earth... He walked over slowly, the faint scent of cedarwood trailing behind him, nothing like the cold, sharp cologne Charles Hart wore. Sitting down beside her, he didn’t say anything right away. He