Chapter 435: The Promise
"Mr. Windsor! Mr. Windsor, wake up!" Nathan reached for Charles's nose, and only after feeling the faint breath did he relax slightly, though tension quickly returned.
Charles's body was already in terrible condition. This violent emotional upheaval that triggered vomiting blood and fainting meant the situation was undoubtedly grave.
Nathan didn't dare delay. He immediately pulled out his phone, dialing the private doctor while carefully lifting Charles into his arms and rushing toward the car parked nearby. His voice was urgent as he spoke into the phone: "Hurry! Get over here immediately. Mr. Windsor has collapsed after coughing up blood. The address is..."
Meanwhile, in the rest quarters at Hell's Angels headquarters, Emily stood by the window. For some inexplicable reason, her heart suddenly seized with an ominous flutter. Her fingertips trembled slightly as an unsettling premonition crept over her.
"Ms. Natasha, are you alright?" Fiona noticed Emily's abnormality and quickly approached.
Emily shook her head, suppressing the inexplicable agitation in her chest. "It's nothing. I'm just a bit tired. Keep close watch on Miguel's movements. Report any anomalies immediately."
"Understood." Fiona retreated.
Emily turned back to the window, her gaze unconsciously drifting toward the alley entrance. The unease in her heart refused to dissipate.
In the VIP ward of a private hospital, the scent of disinfectant permeated the air.
Charles lay in the bed, an IV needle inserted into the back of his hand as cold medication slowly dripped into his veins.
Nathan kept vigil beside the bed, his eyes fixed on the monitoring equipment, terrified of any abnormal signs.
The private physician had just finished his examination. "Mr. Windsor's body is far too weak. The prolonged viral erosion combined with severe emotional distress—this episode of hemoptysis and fainting has caused tremendous damage. He must rest properly and absolutely cannot endure any further stimulation. Otherwise, the consequences will be catastrophic."
"I understand, Doctor. I'll take excellent care of Mr. Windsor and ensure he experiences no further distress."
Nathan's guilt deepened.
After the doctor left, silence returned to the ward, broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors.
After an indeterminate time, Charles's fingers twitched slightly. He slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred, his throat parched and burning. Instinctively, he whispered: "Emily..."
Nathan's face lit up with relief. He quickly moved forward, carefully helping Charles into a semi-upright position and offering him a glass of warm water. "Mr. Windsor! The doctor said your body has sustained severe damage. You need proper rest."
Charles drank a few sips, the dryness in his throat easing slightly.
He glanced around, realizing he was in the hospital. A flash of urgency crossed his eyes. "Emily... is she alright? Did Miguel's people harass her?"
Nathan quickly reassured him. "Mr. Windsor, please don't worry. I've arranged protection for Ms. Johnson. Miguel's people haven't made any moves yet. Right now, what matters most is your recovery. Please stop worrying about Ms. Johnson."
Charles shook his head gently. "I'm fine. This minor injury is nothing."
He raised his hand to his chest, where a lingering ache remained. But when he thought of Emily—of their agreed cooperation, of Miguel's covetous intentions toward her—he couldn't possibly rest easy.
"Nathan, contact Emily. Tell her I'd like to meet tomorrow at noon at the private club in Western District to discuss the details of our cooperation."
"Mr. Windsor, absolutely not! The doctor said you must rest. You cannot move around freely, and you especially cannot meet with Ms. Johnson again. If your emotions become agitated once more, the consequences could be disastrous!"
"My mind is made up. The cooperation cannot be delayed. Miguel has already begun investigating Emily's identity. I know my own body. A brief meeting won't cause problems."
He understood his condition. He knew his time was limited. He didn't want to waste a single moment. He wanted to do more for Emily, to be with her a little longer.
Seeing Charles's resolute expression, Nathan could only nod helplessly. "Alright, Mr. Windsor. I'll contact Ms. Johnson immediately. But you must promise me—during the meeting, you absolutely cannot let your emotions run wild. I'll be right there beside you the entire time."
"Agreed." Charles nodded lightly and closed his eyes once more.
Nathan immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Emily's number.
When the call connected, Emily's cool voice came through. "What is it?"
"Ms. Johnson, hello. This is Nathan. Mr. Windsor would like to meet with you tomorrow at noon at the private club in Western District to discuss the details of your cooperation. Would that be convenient for you?"
Silence fell on the other end. Emily's heart stirred slightly.
The cooperation truly couldn't be delayed. Miguel had already begun investigating her. She needed Charles's assistance to achieve her goals more quickly.
"That works. Tomorrow at noon, twelve o'clock. I'll be there on time."
"Excellent. Thank you, Ms. Johnson. We'll be waiting for you at the club." Nathan exhaled in relief, quickly responding before ending the call. He immediately returned to the bedside to inform Charles that Emily had agreed to meet.
Upon hearing this, color returned to Charles's face.
The night passed without incident. Charles slept fitfully under the influence of medication, though his dreams were filled entirely with Emily's image.
Early the next morning, Charles's spirits had improved considerably.
But just as he prepared to depart for the private club, a violent pain suddenly tore through his chest. Fresh blood surged up his throat. He instinctively covered his mouth, but crimson liquid seeped between his fingers.
Nathan's face went deathly pale. He quickly steadied Charles. "Mr. Windsor! I'll get the doctor immediately!"