Chapter 373

Adrian Roland's lips trembled slightly, as if he still wanted to say something.

His body suddenly pitched forward, collapsing heavily onto Stella Valentine.

"Careful!" A nearby doctor swiftly caught him.

Only then did Stella realize how deceptively heavy Adrian was despite his lean frame. She struggled to support him, her arms shaking under his weight.

Nurses quickly adjusted the hospital bed as everyone worked together to lift him onto it.

His breathing grew increasingly labored, yet he stubbornly refused to let go of her hand.

"Mrs. Roland, you should stay here with him," the doctor said, handing her a sterile gown. "We need to operate immediately."

Stella looked down at her fingers, pale from his grip, and whispered soothingly, "Just let go for a moment. I'll be right back."

Adrian's brow furrowed. Only after her repeated assurances did he reluctantly release her.

The operating room lights flickered on, then off.

Ten hours later, the lead surgeon removed his mask, exhaustion etched on his face. "Three broken ribs and pulmonary hemorrhaging. He'll need at least three months of bed rest."

"That serious?"

"That's a conservative estimate." The doctor wiped his forehead. "An ordinary person would've gone into shock by now. Mr. Roland held on until the end and turned our ER upside down."

Stella lowered her head in guilt.

A nurse handed her a plastic bag. "These are Mr. Roland's personal effects."

She took the damp suit jacket, her fingertips brushing against something sticky. Rainwater mingled with blood had left dark stains on the black fabric.

There was also a faint trace of tobacco.

A phone rang abruptly.

"Mrs. Roland, it's Vincent." The voice on the other end sounded urgent. "We haven't been able to reach Mr. Roland—"

"He's in the hospital," Stella said tersely. "His condition is stable now."

Vincent exhaled in relief before his tone turned furious. "Was it Uncle Xavier again?"

"Why would you think that?"

"The car accident four years ago..." Vincent suddenly fell silent.

Stella's heart plummeted. "He was behind that too?"

Silence filled the line.

"Vincent, answer me." Her voice trembled. "Was his driver named Charlie?"

"...Yes."

"Where is he now?"

Vincent sighed deeply. "Mrs. Roland, since you've guessed it... Yes, Mr. Roland is Mr. Alistair. But he couldn't bring himself to tell you. He was afraid of tarnishing your image of 'Mr. Alistair.'"

Stella clenched the phone, her knuckles turning white.

"What happened back then is complicated. Dr. Lowell knows the whole story." Vincent's voice was low. "I'm not asking for your forgiveness, just... give him a chance to make things right."

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a thin line across the floor.

"Send Charlie to the hospital," she finally said, her voice as light as a falling feather. "I want to see him."