Chapter 131

Chapter 131

The door swung open. Brandon froze the instant he saw Harper standing in the hallway.

"Harper..." His Adam's apple bobbed. He had no idea how much she'd overheard.

Harper's expression remained impassive. She brushed past him into the hospital room without a word. Brandon clenched his fists and turned toward the far end of the corridor to take his work call.

Inside the room, only grandfather and granddaughter remained.

Luke reclined against the pillows, studying Harper's calm face. "Harper, you heard what Brandon said just now, didn't you?"

"I did." Harper poured a glass of water and handed it to him.

"What do you think?" Her grandfather's gaze was clouded with age but piercing in its clarity. "This time, he seems genuinely remorseful."

"Grandpa, even if we reconciled, I could never forget what happened." Harper sat down beside the bed, her tone resolute, without a trace of hesitation. "Brandon and I are finished. Marriage isn't a business deal where you can reinvest after taking losses. My heart is dead. I'm never going back."

Luke studied her unwavering eyes for a long moment before nodding slowly.

"All right." His hand covered hers, patting it gently. "As long as you're certain, I'll support you."

By evening, all the test results had come back. The indicators were relatively stable.

Harper stepped out of the hospital entrance into the biting wind. A black Maybach idled at the bottom of the steps.

Brandon pushed open the car door and strode toward her.

"Get in. I'll drive you home." His tone brooked no argument.

Harper started to refuse, but a glance at her rideshare app—queue position 127—made her relent. She yanked open the passenger door with a scowl.

The drive passed in suffocating silence.

The car glided to a smooth stop outside her high-rise apartment building.

"From now on, I'll arrange proper staff to care for Grandpa." Harper unbuckled her seatbelt, her voice frigid. "Mr. Martinez is a busy man. There's no need to use hospital visits as an excuse to harass me."

She reached for the door handle. It wouldn't budge.

Harper turned, her gaze sharp as a blade. "Unlock the door."

Brandon didn't move.

He turned to face her, his dark eyes boring into hers through the dim light.

"Do you despise me that much? Can't even stand to look at me for one second?" His voice was hoarse, thick with the anguish he'd suppressed the entire drive.

"Yes." Harper didn't flinch. "Unlock the door. I'm getting out."

Not only did Brandon refuse—he suddenly leaned across the console and seized her wrist.

His palm was scorching hot, his grip brutal.

"Let go!" Harper struggled violently, but days of exhaustion combined with the relentless torment of his presence ignited the fury she'd been bottling up.

"Brandon, how long are you going to torture me?" Her voice cracked with rage, her eyes reddening. "We're divorced! Do you honestly think a few groveling apologies will make me come crawling back like I used to? Dream on!"

She was a cornered porcupine, every quill raised in defense.

Brandon stared at her reddened eyes, his chest tightening as if someone were carving into it with a dull knife. His last thread of rationality snapped.

He yanked her forcefully into his arms, his hold iron-clad against her back.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Harper..." He buried his face in the curve of her neck, his voice trembling with desperate humility. "I just wanted to see you... I can't control myself..."

The familiar scent of cedarwood engulfed her senses.

Harper was trapped in his embrace, but the fire in her chest only blazed hotter.

She didn't melt into the arms she'd once craved. Instead, she let out a cold laugh.

She shoved hard against his chest, wrenching herself free.

"Mr. Martinez, you're wasting this performance on the wrong audience." Harper straightened her rumpled coat collar, her gaze glacial as she delivered the killing blow. "If you have this much free time, you'd be better off going to the room next door to comfort your precious Luna."

At the mention of that name, Brandon went rigid.

Silence crashed down inside the car.

Brandon turned to face Harper in the passenger seat, searching desperately for any sign of softening. "Harper, there's nothing between Luna and me. You have to believe me. You're the only one in my heart."

Harper didn't even lift an eyelid. "Are you finished? Can you unlock the door now?"

Brandon stared at her glacial indifference. The sense of failure and panic in his chest spread like wildfire.

He didn't unlock the door. Instead, he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The black Maybach roared to life like an enraged beast and tore into the night.

"Brandon, what are you doing? Stop the car!" Harper's face drained of color as she shouted.

Brandon ignored her, his jaw clenched tight, his foot pressing harder on the gas.

The vehicle hurtled through empty streets, blowing through two yellow lights before finally plunging into the underground garage of the downtown penthouse.

The moment the car stopped, Brandon yanked out the keys and shoved open his door. He circled to the passenger side, wrenched it open, grabbed Harper's wrist, and half-dragged her out of the vehicle.

"Let go of me! Have you lost your mind?" Harper fought against him, her heels scraping harshly against the concrete floor.