Chapter 131

Chapter 131

The little guy sobbed so hard he could barely catch his breath, pointing at Theodric and shouting.

"Her hair's all gone! She's wearing a hat, but underneath she's completely bald! Her hands and arms are covered in needle marks, and there are tubes sticking out of her everywhere!"

"She's in so much pain—she's dying, and you went to the hospital to yell at her! You're a monster!"

Ollie's accusations hit Theodric like a sledgehammer to the chest.

The whip he'd been holding dropped to the floor.

Theodric stood frozen, his mind going blank.

At the hospital, heart-wrenching retching sounds echoed from the bathroom.

Theodric's earlier outburst had triggered the full force of the second round of chemo side effects.

Camilla's hands gripped the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white. Her stomach was already empty—she'd thrown up everything, even the yellow-green bile. Her throat burned with every dry heave, the spasms pulling at the nerves in her chest until cold sweat broke out across her skin.

Caspian stood behind her, his large palm pressed against her fragile spine, stroking slowly downward along each vertebra.

"Rinse your mouth."

A warm cup was brought to her lips.

Camilla took a tiny sip, but her stomach immediately roiled violently again.

The warm water came back up along with stomach acid, splashing into the sink.

Her legs gave out completely. She started to slide down.

Caspian caught her in one swift motion, scooping her up and carrying her back to the hospital bed in long strides.

He tucked her under the covers, pulling the blanket up snugly. Then he turned to Flynn, who stood at the door barely daring to breathe.

"Go hire the entire private chef team from that three-Michelin-star place on the top floor." Caspian's voice was low and irritated. "Have them move into the hospital kitchen tonight. If they can't make appetizing, stomach-friendly purées, fire them all."

Flynn nodded frantically and bolted.

Camilla lay pale in the bed, each breath an effort. Cold sweat had soaked the edge of her beige cashmere cap.

Caspian took a warm towel and gently wiped her face.

Half an hour later, Flynn rushed back in, breathless, carrying an insulated container. He set it on the bedside table.

Caspian opened the lid.

Inside was a specially prepared sweet-and-sour fruit purée, perfectly warmed, giving off a faint, pleasant aroma.

He pulled up a chair, scooped a small spoonful, blew on it gently, and held it to Camilla's lips.

Camilla turned her head away. The nausea hadn't subsided yet—just the smell of food made her want to throw up again.

"Just one bite." Caspian kept his voice soft and patient. "One small bite. If you eat it, I'll tell you a joke."

Camilla managed the faintest twitch of her lips. She couldn't smile.

Caspian didn't push. He just held the spoon in midair.

He cleared his throat. With the same serious expression he wore in international board meetings, he began.

"Once upon a time, there was a penguin. He felt really hot, so he plucked out all his feathers. Then he froze to death."

The room fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Camilla couldn't help it—she snorted out a laugh.

The laugh tugged at her stomach, and she winced in discomfort.

Caspian seized the moment and slipped the spoonful of purée into her mouth.

"Swallow it." His eyes locked on her throat.

Camilla forced it down.

The sweet-and-sour flavor spread across her tongue, and surprisingly, it actually eased the nausea a little.

"Good job." Caspian didn't hold back on the praise. He pulled out a tissue and wiped the fruit residue from her lips. "One more bite. I've got one about a polar bear."

Camilla shook her head. She really couldn't eat any more.

Just then, Flynn rushed in holding a tablet, his face grim.

"Mr. Mitchell." Flynn hesitated, gesturing at the screen.

Caspian glanced over impatiently.

On the screen was the Mitchell Group's encrypted internal video conference room.

A dozen senior board members crowded the frame, red-faced and agitated.

"Mr. Mitchell hasn't shown up at headquarters in half a month!"

"The Nelson Group bankruptcy triggered a chain reaction. The cross-border acquisition is at a critical stage, and the other side won't budge. Mr. Mitchell disappearing right now is irresponsible to all the shareholders!"

"If Mr. Mitchell doesn't come back today, we'll have no choice but to activate emergency board procedures and remove him as CEO!"

The speakers blared with the board members' aggressive voices.

Caspian didn't even raise an eyebrow.

"Want to remove me?" Caspian laughed coldly at the screen. "Let them try. Flynn, shut it down."

Flynn fumbled to press the power button.

A pale, thin hand suddenly reached out and pressed down on Caspian's hand.

Caspian froze. He turned toward the bed.

Camilla was leaning against the pillow, shaking her head at him.

"Go back." Her voice was soft. "I've already made it through the most dangerous rejection phase. Dr. Stuart said my numbers are improving."

Caspian took her hand in his, his palm warm.

"Don't worry about the company." His tone softened. "Those old guys can't do anything."

"What about my studio?" Camilla countered. "Second Decade Studio still needs investment from the Mitchell Group. If you lose the company, who's going to fund me?"

Caspian went still.

He looked into her clear eyes and understood exactly what she was worried about.

She didn't want to be his burden. She didn't want to carry the guilt of destroying everything he'd built.

They stared at each other for a full thirty seconds.

Caspian finally gave in, grinding his back teeth.

"Flynn." Caspian stood and straightened his wrinkled collar. "Get the car. We're going back to headquarters."

Flynn practically sagged with relief and hurried out with the tablet.

Caspian turned and gestured to the bodyguards outside.

Four men in black suits immediately took positions outside the hospital room door, sealing off the hallway.

After arranging everything, Caspian leaned down again, bracing his hands on either side of the bed.

He lowered his head, his warm lips pressing against Camilla's pale forehead.

He stayed there for a long time.

"I'll be back by tomorrow morning at the latest." His voice was low and rough. "If anything happens, have the nurse call me. I'll keep my phone on twenty-four-seven."

Camilla nodded and urged him to go.

Caspian left the room, looking back every few steps.

The room fell quiet again.

Afternoon sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting dappled shadows across the floor.

Camilla felt suffocated. The air was thick with the smell of disinfectant.

She pressed the call button at her bedside.

The nurse, Briar, came in quickly.

"Briar, can you take me downstairs for a bit?" Camilla gestured toward the sunlight outside. "I need some fresh air."

Briar nodded eagerly and went to get the wheelchair.

Ten minutes later, Camilla was being wheeled into the hospital's back garden.

The four bodyguards followed close behind, quickly fanning out to guard the four entrances once they reached the garden.