Chapter 184 How to Repay Him?
Two hours later, Wentworth was finally wheeled out of the operating room.
The bullet had lodged deep but—fortunately—had missed all his vital organs. Removal had been tricky, and the surgical team kept him in the OR for observation until the anesthesia wore off.
He had actually regained consciousness while still on the table. The doctor checked his mental state and confirmed his brain function was normal; it was the abdominal wound that would need time to heal.
When they wheeled him out, he saw Matilda waiting by the door and reached for her hand, squeezing it hard.
"Wentworth..." Matilda couldn't form the words; seeing him reduced her to tears.
Instead, Wentworth comforted her. His voice was raspy and required enormous effort. "Looks like I'll need you to take care of me now."
"I will. I promise I'll take good care of you," she said, still crying.
They moved Wentworth into a VIP room. Matilda and Zoey followed to stay with him, while Charles went upstairs to check on Amelia.
When Amelia learned Wentworth had stabilized from critical condition, she finally felt she could breathe. But she couldn't stop crying. "What kind of life is this? Getting hurt every other day—how am I supposed to survive as his mother?"
"Mom, the military is Wentworth's dream," Charles said. "If you really want what's best for him, let him have it. And stop pushing him toward Juliana—marriage can't be forced. Matty is his whole world."
Amelia wiped her tears. "Have they found Juliana yet?"
"They're searching. We've got dozens of police officers on it, even some local volunteers helping out. There's a substantial reward for finding her."
"They have to find Juliana. I can't face her parents otherwise... I need to go see Wentworth now. God, why is it so hard to live a little longer? You're all going to be the death of me." Amelia struggled to her feet, her body weak and her head spun.
Charles moved quickly to support her.
...
Night fell.
Nason and a search party combed the woods looking for Juliana. They'd been at it for hours, narrowing the search area, but there was still no sign of her.
"What if a wild animal got to her?" Nason muttered.
He broke from the group and headed toward a patch of wasteland. The grass here grew waist-high; at first glance, it looked empty. He didn't even know why he'd wandered here—how could Juliana be hiding in a place like this?
He grabbed a stick and started poking through the grass.
When he parted a thick clump, he spotted spotted someone lying face-down in the undergrowth.
He fell backward onto his ass, thinking he'd found a corpse.
But the figure looked... recent.
Was she dead only minutes ago?
He looked closer—it was a woman.
He recognized the clothes; an expensive designer plaid shirt—over eight grand, he guessed. Anyone who could afford clothes like that had to be Juliana.
He crawled forward and touched her face. Her skin was warm; her forehead burned—she had a fever!
It was definitely Juliana.
There was a slope above this patch of grass—she must have tumbled down and landed here.
"Hey, wake up. Come on!" Nason tapped her face.
Juliana's eyes fluttered open. When she saw Nason she asked slowly, "Where's Wentworth?"
"He's not dead."
At that, her eyes closed again. She looked utterly exhausted.
Nason scooped her up and rushed her to the nearest hospital.
...
Wentworth slept again.
He dreamed he was back in combat, every muscle tensed for battle. His sleep was far from peaceful.
Then he felt a pair of hands holding his. He opened his eyes.
He found Amelia and Matilda watching over him.
Seeing him awake, Zoey laughed. "You were fighting someone in your sleep—making these faces. We didn't dare get too close in case you threw a punch."
Really?
He turned to look at Matilda.
Zoey continued, "Only Matilda was brave enough to come near you. The second she took your hand you relaxed completely."
Matilda smiled. "Don't worry. Everything's okay now."
Everyone seemed relaxed except Amelia, who stood aside and cried.
Wentworth wanted to comfort her but didn't have the strength.
That's when he remembered Juliana. "Where's Juliana?"
"They found her," Matilda said. "She's at another hospital getting checked out. Nason's with her—she'll be fine."
Wentworth nodded.
He then gestured to Charles, who came closer. "What's up?"
Wentworth's voice was hoarse and unclear. Charles leaned in, finally making out the words after a moment. "You want to go home now? Why not wait until you're feeling better?"
Wentworth shook his head like a fragile child.
What could Charles do? He had to give in.
"Alright, I'll make the arrangements."
Matilda didn't exactly approve of traveling in his condition, but she guessed he really hated being abroad. Besides, Charles promised to arrange a full medical team and a private jet to escort him home, so she agreed.
England might be beautiful, but after the kidnapping she was jumpy about the place. She didn't even want to leave the hospital.
Amelia agreed as well. Back home Wentworth could get military protection—he'd be safer there. She was exhausted. Wentworth could be with whoever he wanted; she was done interfering.
When Wentworth headed home, Amelia didn't go with him. She stayed at the other hospital with Juliana.
During the kidnapping Juliana had nearly been assaulted. She'd fought back and been beaten for it—one rib broken. Combined with wandering through the woods, she was in rough shape.
After waking, she'd asked about Wentworth's condition only once, then sat staring into space.
Nason hadn't left either.
He didn't quite know why he was still here. He'd come to England for two reasons—a business trip and to see Matilda.
That morning Matilda had called him. Besides thanking him, she'd told him that she and Wentworth were heading back home.
He'd said he understood.
"When we get back, let me buy you dinner," Matilda had said. "You saved us."
"We'll see when you're back."
Nason felt it was pointless; it wasn't as if he couldn't afford his own meals.
Matilda heard the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. "What do you want then? A competitive project from the Gonzaga Group? Charles said next time you're interested in something, just say the word—the Gonzaga Group won't compete with you for it."
"Hope Charles means that."
Matilda breathed a sigh of relief. She hated owing favors and had been worried Nason might leverage the debt for something she couldn't give. If he'd settle for a business deal, that was perfect.
...
Today Nason watched Juliana.
Ever since he'd brought her back she'd stared at the gardenia tree outside the window. Sometimes she'd even smile to herself.
He couldn't help teasing, "Are you daydreaming? Must be nice, trapping yourself in fantasy land where everything goes your way. But stay in that dream too long and you might actually lose it for real."
Juliana finally looked up at Nason.
"What are you staring at? Keep this up and your parents will ship you off to a psych ward. But you're not actually crazy, so do you really want to end up in a place like that?"
Juliana turned back to the gardenia tree.
"Guess you really do want to go to the psych ward," Nason said helplessly.
He was about to leave when he suddenly heard Juliana spoke. "Why are you still here?"