Chapter 96
Catherine's sobs filled the room like a relentless soundtrack, showing no signs of stopping. If anything, they seemed to be intensifying. Philip's anger dissolved under the torrent of her tears, leaving only irritation and resignation in its wake.
"Enough!" he finally conceded. "Stop crying!"
Catherine's sobs halted as if someone had pressed a pause button.
She raised her tear-stained face, looking up at him timidly. "Re-really? You're not mad at me for making your mother cry?"
Philip gazed at her pitiful state and felt a profound sense of helplessness rising from deep within.
He couldn't help thinking that Catherine existed solely to challenge his self-control.
"Don't let it happen again," he practically forced the words through gritted teeth.
It was as close to forgiveness as she would get.
Catherine immediately wiped her face with her sleeve, sniffling. "I understand."
Philip was stunned by her instantaneous change in mood.
Resignedly, he pulled some tissues from the bedside box and roughly wiped away the messy tear tracks on her face.
After cleaning her up, Philip addressed her with unprecedented solemnity. "Catherine, remember what I'm saying. I can't stop your revenge plans, but my boundary is clear—keep my mother out of your vendettas!"
Catherine cautiously probed, "Your mother and your sister have cut ties, but you and Elizabeth seem to get along fine?" She paused, as if indignant on his behalf. "Don't you have any discontent with Terry? If not for him, your sister wouldn't have broken with your family, and your mother wouldn't be so heartbroken."
Philip's eyes flashed with mockery. "Catherine, your talent for sowing discord is quite impressive. What's your aim? Using me against Terry?"
Catherine's heart skipped a beat, quickly adopting a wounded expression. "I didn't mean it. My enemy is the Wilson family, isn't it? You're accusing me unfairly! I'm genuinely concerned for you! Just think, without Terry, your family of four could be so happy right now."
As she spoke, she carefully observed Philip's expression, attempting to catch any emotional fluctuation she could exploit.
Rowan's words echoed in her mind. Terry built his fortune with the Foster family's backing!
If Philip, as Nova Pharmaceuticals' CEO, withdrew that support...
Philip watched Catherine's feigned innocence, and he flashed a smirk.
He straightened up and walked to the window, his silhouette tall yet distant.
"I've told you," his voice was coolly brutal, "I won't help you seek revenge—not against the Wilsons, not against the Wests. Drop those little schemes."
"Nova Pharmaceuticals is deeply entangled with both the West Group and Wilson Group. The interests run bone-deep. I'm not some lovestruck teenager. I keep family and business separate. Even if I despised Terry to my core, I wouldn't sacrifice enormous profits for something as trivial as 'love.'"
The coldness and rationality in his tone silenced Catherine.
Philip—she knew him too well. The devil of the business world, cold-blooded and ruthless.
His interests were intertwined with the Wests and Wilsons. And then there was Elizabeth, that "sister" who weighed strangely heavy in his heart.
Would Philip unconditionally satisfy Elizabeth's wishes?
That didn't seem like him!
Was there some leverage involved?
But that didn't seem right either—he despised being threatened more than anything.
"What are you thinking about?" Philip's tone carried a hint of displeasure. Catherine had blatantly zoned out in front of him.
Had she even heard a word he'd said?
Catherine snapped back to reality, forcing a smile. "I was thinking about... you, of course, Philip."
Philip was not at all pleased, and his brow furrowed in distaste. "Slick words."
He yanked her blanket off with one swift motion. "Change your clothes."
"Where are we going?" Catherine's eyes brightened. Could she finally leave the hospital?
"For a walk."
"What? Walking before we've even eaten?" Catherine's face fell. She'd hoped to go home.
Philip didn't bother with further explanation. He bent down and effortlessly scooped her up in his arms.
Catherine gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. "Philip! Are you kidnapping a respectable woman?"
Philip lowered his head, his aristocratic nose brushing against hers, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Indeed. Planning to sell you for a good price."
Catherine felt her heart flutter at the contact, her face flushing. "As if you'd ever part with me!"
Her tone carried an unconscious certainty and affection that surprised even herself.
Philip smiled, offering no contradiction.
He carried her into the bathroom, gently helping her change into athletic wear.
"Can you walk?" His eyes dropped to her abdomen, concern evident.
Catherine nodded firmly. After days in bed, her bones felt soft.
Philip steadied her with a hand on her shoulder, opening the hospital room door. "Try."
Catherine took a step, her legs weak from bedrest, but manageable.
Philip's sharp profile focused intently on her feet. "Does it hurt?"
"Not at all!" Catherine shook her head quickly.
Philip took her hand, his fingers assertively intertwining with hers in an intimate clasp.
Catherine's heart skipped a beat!
This was too intimate!
Everyone at Silver Lake Hospital knew Philip!
Their relationship wasn't even public yet!
"Philip." She tried to withdraw her hand, but his grip only tightened when her fingers moved.
"What's wrong?" he glanced sideways at her. "Ashamed to be seen with me?"
"You!" Catherine sputtered, infuriated by his deliberate provocation.
She yanked her hand forcefully.
This time, Philip surprisingly released her!
Catherine stopped walking, tilting her face up angrily. "Philip! What's that supposed to mean?"
Philip's expression remained neutral. "Didn't you want to let go?"
Catherine's chest heaved with anger!
He knew perfectly well!
He was deliberately teasing her!
Past and present grievances bubbled up, and she decided to go all in. "Philip! What exactly am I to you right now?"
The corridor fell instantly silent.
Passing doctors, nurses, and patients' families all turned to stare!
Philip looked at her face, flushed with anger, like a bristling ragdoll cat.
His Adam's apple bobbed once, his voice deep and husky. "And what do you think you should be to me?"
That bastard!
Throwing the ball back in her court!
Catherine's brain short-circuited, and she blurted out recklessly. "You're my man!"
The surrounding gazes instantly transformed from curiosity to shock!
Catherine realized what she'd done, her face turning scarlet. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into the floor!
She was a doctor at this hospital!
How mortifying!
She turned to flee.
In the next second, Philip's arm locked around her waist, pressing her mortified face firmly against his chest, shielding her from all prying eyes.
His deep voice resonated clearly through the silent corridor.
"My apologies, everyone. My girlfriend's wound is still healing, her emotions are unstable. Sorry for the disturbance. We apologize for any inconvenience."
With that, he guided the flustered Catherine toward the VIP elevator, leaving behind a corridor of dumbfounded onlookers.
The elevator doors closed, leaving just the two of them in the confined space.
Only then did Philip release her.
Catherine kept her head down, her earlobes red enough to drip blood.
Damn bastard!
If he'd just acknowledged it earlier!
Philip faced the elevator doors, standing ramrod straight. His handsome face remained expressionless, but when he caught sight of her crimson earlobes, he flashed a faint smile.
"Where's that boldness from when you declared I was your man?" His voice carried a hint of amusement. "Feeling shy now?"
Catherine jerked her head up to glare at him, indignation in her eyes. "Couldn't you have spared me just once?"
Did he only find satisfaction in her embarrassment?
Philip turned to face her, his tall figure creating an imposing presence in the small space.
He raised his hand, his voice low and serious.
"Catherine, I don't spare anyone. Never have, never will. That's who I am."
The elevator arrival chime sounded.
Philip stepped out first, standing in the hallway, extending his hand toward her.
That hand—strong, elegant, and commanding—offered with the assurance of someone accustomed to controlling everything.
Catherine stared at his outstretched hand, feeling a sharp pang in her chest, followed by a wave of bitterness.
What sparing? Wake up, Catherine!
She pinched her palm hard!
The sharp pain instantly restored her clarity.
Her attachment to him wasn't love! It was manipulation! Revenge!
To surrender to his occasional tenderness would be her downfall!
She took a deep breath, suppressing the emotions swirling in her eyes, and placed her hand gently in his palm. Her brightest smile appeared as if by magic. "Who's angry? Being seen with you is my privilege."
Philip's eyes darkened momentarily as he sighed, "Good to hear you're not upset."