Chapter 328

Chapter 328

A glimmer of hope appeared for Katrina.

She didn't waste the opportunity. Her elbow slammed hard into Natasha's head, sending the woman crashing to the floor with a thunderous bang.

Seeing she was safe, Noah immediately released Norton and pulled her into his arms.

"Are you okay? Tell me you're okay." Noah's voice cracked with panic, thick with unshed tears.

"It hurts..." Katrina managed to get out. Everything hurt—her whole body ached, especially her throat. It felt like it was about to snap.

"Someone! Get in here now!" Noah swept her up into his arms and shouted toward the hallway.

When he spotted the swarm of doctors and nurses rushing in, it finally registered that they were already in a hospital. He turned back, laid Katrina gently on the bed, and barked orders for them to examine her.

By then, Natasha had been restrained, and Norton had been helped to his feet.

Norton had only just arrived, but in those brief moments, he'd pieced together what happened. Now he was pleading for Natasha's mercy.

"Grandfather, at the end of the day, Mother did this for me. I'm willing to take full responsibility for her crimes." Norton dropped to his knees before Neville and began kowtowing repeatedly.

Natasha sobbed in anguish, tears streaming down her face. She shook her head, saying it was all her fault, that she'd dragged Norton down with her, begging Neville not to take it out on him.

"Grandfather, I'll take Mother abroad. We'll never come back. Please..." When Neville's expression remained iron-hard and unmoved, Norton slammed his forehead against the floor several more times. Blood began to seep from his hairline.

After what felt like an eternity, Neville took a deep breath. "Get up. This isn't over. I'll have her locked up for now while I decide what comes next."

Norton's face lit up with relief. "Thank you, Grandfather."

Two bodyguards quickly dragged Natasha away. Only then did she seem to realize the gravity of her actions, wailing and begging for forgiveness, her cries piercing and desperate.

With that, things finally began to wind down.

Norton left shortly after. Before he did, he cast one long, burning look at Katrina on the hospital bed—his gaze both intense and conflicted.

"Mr. Crane, why did you show up at that exact moment? That brute Noah dislocated your arm." His assistant followed Norton out, unable to hold back his indignation.

Norton ran his right hand over his left elbow, then held his breath and wrenched it hard. A sharp crack echoed as he popped the joint back into place.

His face went chalk-white instantly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. But he acted like nothing had happened and even laughed.

"I couldn't just stand there and watch the woman I care about get killed by that lunatic Natasha, could I? Katrina's too precious. Without her, the rest of my life would be unbearably lonely."

Norton glanced back at the hospital building, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Of course, there was another reason. He'd saved Katrina's life again. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, that debt was now hanging over her.

"Then why did you plead for Natasha? What she did is a capital offense. She completely crossed Neville's red line." The assistant asked nervously, terrified that Neville might have lumped Norton in with her and punished him too.

Norton casually dusted off his hands. "If I hadn't pleaded for her, the old man would've been even more displeased with me."

Neville might seem rigid, but at his core, he valued loyalty and family.

No matter what, Natasha was Norton's mother. Under those circumstances, not pleading for her would've looked bad—might've even made him seem ruthless. That wouldn't serve him well in the long run.

This time, Natasha had dug her own grave. She'd likely end up imprisoned or exiled abroad.

She had no one to blame but herself.

---

By the time the chaos settled, it was already noon.

Dr. York examined Katrina and found damage to her vocal cords, signs of shock, and several scrapes on her body. But overall, her injuries weren't too severe.

He instructed her to take her medication on time, speak as little as possible, eat bland foods, avoid emotional stress, and not overexert herself.

Katrina felt helpless.

She was practically useless now. Even talking was off-limits.

"Drink some." Noah came over holding a bowl of soup, scooping up a spoonful and bringing it to her lips.

It was chicken soup, giving off a sweet, savory aroma. The tender chicken smelled incredible, enough to stir anyone's appetite.

She'd been out of sorts these past few days—barely eating, barely drinking, barely sleeping. She'd lost weight. Now, seeing the soup, her throat reflexively swallowed twice.

But the next second, a sharp, tearing pain ripped through her throat. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Give me..." She turned her head with difficulty toward the nightstand, where one of her medications had painkilling properties. Her lifeline.

"I'll feed it to you." Noah thought she wanted to drink the soup herself and eagerly leaned in.

Katrina shot him an irritated glare. "The medicine!"

He flinched, finally realizing what she meant. He quickly set down the bowl and poured her a glass of warm water.

After taking the pill and resting for a while, her furrowed brow gradually relaxed.

Noah sat beside her, cradling the soup bowl in both hands as if afraid it would cool down, warming it with his palms.

He looked like a scolded puppy, eyes downcast, stealing glances at her every now and then. Whenever their eyes met, he'd look away immediately.

Katrina found it almost funny.

Noah had never acted like this before. Today, he'd done a complete one-eighty.

No—he felt guilty.

"What, got a guilty conscience?" Katrina took the bowl from him and sipped the soup herself. The rich flavor flooded her mouth, reviving her half-dead body.

Noah gave an awkward laugh and pulled out a tissue for her. "Want to eat anything else? You won't get full on just this."

"I want to eat your flesh and drink your blood." Katrina glared at him vengefully, her teeth grinding together.

Sometimes she really felt like she and Noah were each other's greatest disaster in this lifetime.

Fate had arranged their reunion not just to rekindle their romance, but to balance their powers.

To let them clash and wear each other down, so they wouldn't wreak havoc on anyone else.

"My... my blood's filthy, my flesh is rotten. How could you stomach it?" Noah struggled for a long moment before finally squeezing out that response.

"And besides, how could you bear to?"

"Why wouldn't I? I wish you'd just—" Before Katrina could finish, another tearing pain ripped through her throat. Tears flooded her eyes instantly.

She was at her wit's end.

"Don't talk. Dr. York said you need to rest. I'll take care of you these next few days." Seeing her pale face, Noah spoke cautiously.

Katrina wasn't satisfied.

She still had so many questions.

"Don't ask. Let me confess." Noah seemed to read her mind and offered a placating explanation.

"I woke up yesterday afternoon. You were the only one there, resting beside me. I was shocked and didn't know how to face you, so I stalled for time.

As for Zoey—the second she left, I had Murphy gather evidence.

I also knew you'd probably figured something out, so I didn't make a scene."