Chapter 558

Anneliese had the nagging sense she'd overlooked something so close to uncovering the truth, yet it had slipped from her grasp the instant she reached for it.

She waited, breath held, for Jonathan to respond. He simply lowered his gaze, lips pressed tight in a rigid line.

Without warning, the bedroom door burst open. Maisie and her assistant appeared.

"The patient is stable now, but still extremely weak. Try not to upset her again. There's a sedative in the IV—it'll take effect shortly."

Anneliese let out a relieved sigh upon hearing that Nishay was safe and rushed to express her gratitude.

"Dr. Landis, I'm sorry to trouble you during the holidays. Truly—thank you so much."

Maisie cast a quick look at Jonathan, then offered a gentle smile.

"Just part of the job, Mrs. Fullbuster."

She'd charged a fair fee, so of course, she was giving it her all.

Jonathan murmured quietly, "Stay the night."

Maisie inclined her head, while Jessica spoke up, "We have extra guest rooms. I'll see you settled."

Jessica escorted Maisie and her assistant out, leaving Anneliese to slip into the bedroom and approach the bed.

She leaned over to see Nishay and clasped her hand. "Grandma..."

Nishay's eyes fluttered open, her face pale. She didn't withdraw her hand. Her

voice, hoarse and fragile, carried a warning.

"Anne, step outside first."

Anneliese paused, glancing over her shoulder at Jonathan, who had quietly followed her in.

Grandma wants a private moment with Jonathan? But why?

Confusion and unease rooted her to the spot.

Jonathan moved closer, sliding an arm around her waist to guide her gently away from the bed. His tone softened.

"Go on. I'll stay with Ms. Morris for a while."

Reluctantly, Anneliese left, casting nervous glances back. She closed the door behind her but lingered just outside, unable to shake her anxiety.

Something felt undeniably off about the room.

Inside, Nishay's gaze pinned Jonathan. Despite her age-clouded eyes, they glimmered with sharp distrust and a wary vigilance.

Jonathan ignored it. He adjusted the IV drip and lightly touched the tubing.

"The fluid's a bit cold. I can warm it up for you."

"No need," Nishay interrupted. Her voice was rough and stubborn. She tried to lift herself upright.

Jonathan didn't resist. He matched her movements, leaning in to help her sit with ease. Before she could protest, he positioned a pillow behind her back.

When she moved to push him away, he had already stepped back, standing silently, patient like a well mannered boy awaiting instruction.

The wealthy heir in Halden acting subdued was completely unbelievable.

Especially when facing someone like her, an unremarkable old woman.

He only acted this way because of the debts he carried—because he was haunted by the three lives he owed the Claude family.

Nishay's face was drained of color. Memories of that day remained raw and painful.

Jonathan unfolded a tissue and bent to wipe her cold sweat, but she slapped his hand aside.

"I'm just a useless old woman. I hardly deserve your attention, Mr. Fullbuster!"

He had anticipated resistance. His expression remained steady.

He continued methodically, dabbing at the sweat near her temple, folding the tissue, and wiping again with careful precision.

Weakness had robbed her of the energy to fight him. Her chest rose and fell, her voice sharp yet powerless.

"Flattery won't sway me. I'll never approve of your relationship."

"But we're already together."

"You!" She choked on her indignation, fury flaring.

"You destroyed the Claude family. What right do you have to ruin my only granddaughter?"

Her chest heaved, pain stabbing beneath her sternum.

Jonathan's frown deepened, concerned she might collapse. He took her delicate hand and began pressing the acupoints-first

ones on the back of her honet

along the inner forearn

then

meto calm her

racing heartbeat and panic.

"If you want to stop us, you need to regain your strength. Lying here won't change anything."

She tried to pull her hand away but failed. Humiliated, she closed her eyes.

He continued with steady, skilled pressure, clearly trained by a professional.

Nishay didn't want his gentleness; she didn't even want to meet his eyes.

Yet under his touch, the tightness in her chest eased slightly. Or perhaps the sedative was finally taking effect.

"Save your breath. I won't consent. Anne is my granddaughter. I know her best- she's obedient. She'll listen to me."