Chapter 149
Vitale's brows were tightly furrowed, as if he was chewing over some hidden meaning in Henley's words that had been overlooked.
"What did you just say?" he asked again, his voice low and carrying an ominous tone.
Henley, unsettled by the sudden seriousness in Vitale's expression, hesitated but still clearly repeated his suggestion, "I mean, if they demand an exchange, it might be better to keep those captives alive until we confirm Ms. Lorraine's exact location."
"After all, we need to ensure Ms. Lorraine's safety, and we also need as many bargaining chips and as much information as possible."
Vitale paced restlessly in the narrow space between the hospital bed and the window, his steps quick and erratic.
"Henley," Vitale stopped abruptly, turning toward the bed, his voice trembling slightly with a strong suspicion, "is it possible, do you think it's possible, that they won't call directly to negotiate? They know I can track, listen in, and counter them, so they might use an older, more subtle way?"
Henley thought carefully before responding, "You mean they might send a signal first? A token? Something to prove that Ms. Lorraine is with them and safe for now, before stating their specific terms and location for the exchange?"
"Exactly!" Vitale almost growled, rushing to the bedside and gripping Henley's uninjured shoulder with such force that Henley let out a muffled grunt. But Vitale didn't notice, his eyes burning with the excitement of breaking through the fog, "Like the old-school gangster methods! To avoid being tracked or wiretapped, they send something personal from the hostage—a strand of hair, a piece of jewelry, or even a bloodstained cloth—to prove the hostage is alive and under their control! Only then do they give the next instructions!"
He let go of Henley, spun around in place, and rubbed his face hard with both hands, trying to clear his chaotic thoughts, "They don't dare contact me directly, afraid of exposing their location, afraid I'll track them down. So they use this method! It has to be!"
Henley, enduring the pain in his shoulder and the ache in his abdomen, tried to keep up with Vitale's racing thoughts, "If that's the case, Mr. Luca, how would they get this token to you? Mail it directly to the castle? That's too risky; it could be intercepted. Through a middleman? Or leave it in a public place and anonymously tell you where to pick it up?"
"A package!" Vitale suddenly froze, his eyes widening as the word exploded like thunder in his mind, "An inconspicuous, unsigned package that just shows up out of nowhere!"
He remembered what Victor had mentioned that morning.
A mysterious brown paper package that appeared at the castle gate, with no mailing information and no one claiming it.
At the time, he was too frustrated to care, thinking it was just some irrelevant distraction or even a prank or provocation. He didn't even look at it and dismissed it outright.
Now, this overlooked detail, under Henley's reminder and his current wild guesses, suddenly stood out glaringly, filled with ominous implications.
Vitale whipped around toward the door and roared with all his strength, "Victor!"
His voice exploded in the hospital room, carrying a desperate panic on the edge of collapse.
Almost as soon as the shout faded, the door was slammed open with a loud bang.
Victor was the first to rush in, his face tense and alert. He had clearly been standing guard outside and was startled by the yell.
Right behind him, Aria dashed in like a frightened deer, her face pale. Her anxious gaze immediately locked onto Henley on the bed. Seeing that he looked unwell but was otherwise fine, she clutched her chest and sighed in relief, then turned to Vitale, who looked almost crazed, with confusion and worry.
"Vitale, what's wrong?" Victor strode over to him, scanning the room warily, his hand instinctively resting on the holster at his waist, "Your eyes are bloodshot, your face looks awful. What's got you so worked up? What did Henley say?"
Vitale completely ignored his questions. Right now, his mind was only on that overlooked package.
He suddenly reached out, gripping Victor's shoulders tightly with both hands, the force so strong that even Victor couldn't help but wince.
"That package!" Vitale's voice was hoarse, almost breaking, his eyes shining with a terrifying intensity, "The one you mentioned this morning, left at the castle gate, unsigned. Is it still at the castle? Tell me! Is it still there?"
Victor was caught off guard by Vitale's sudden outburst and the strength of his grip, but he quickly answered, "Yes, it's still there. You said to ignore it, so I had it put in the storage cabinet in the corner of the entrance hall. No one's touched it."
"What's this about? Is this why you're losing it? Didn't you say that thing was useless, that you didn't even want to look at it?"
He was puzzled. How could a package that Vitale himself had deemed unimportant suddenly make him act like this?
Vitale let go of him, took a deep breath, and exhaled with a voice still trembling but laced with a forced, chilling calm, "I think that package might be useful. No, it's critical."
Vitale turned to Henley, his gaze sharp as a blade, "Henley, I need you to promise me one thing. Stay here, rest, and recover as fast as you can. I need you out of this hospital, by my side, to help me find Isabella. Your brain, your experience—I'm gonna need them soon. So—"
His eyes flicked to the IV needle in Henley's hand, "Right now, you absolutely, absolutely cannot pull out any of these tubes or do anything stupid that might slow down your recovery. Got it?"
Henley nodded immediately, "I understand, Mr. Luca. I'll follow the treatment and get better as soon as possible."
After Vitale and the others left.
Aria suddenly turned to Henley, her pretty eyes instantly filling with tears, her voice trembling with a mix of sobs and disbelief-fueled anger, "What? My God, Henley, were you actually thinking of pulling out your IV?"
"Do you have any idea what you're saying? Do you know how my heart nearly stopped when I saw you brought in, covered in blood? And now you want to mess up your own body? Are you trying to rip my heart out and stomp on it?"
The more she spoke, the more emotional she got, tears streaming down her face.
Henley had seen plenty of women cry before.
Scared, pleading, desperate.
In the past, he'd only felt annoyed. It was a hassle, a noise he had to deal with.
But now, looking at Aria's tear-streaked face, flushed with emotion, and seeing the unhidden pain and affection practically spilling from her eyes, his chest felt like it had been hit hard by something. A strange, sharp ache spread through him.
It wasn't the pain of his wounds.
It was something deeper, something he hadn't felt in a long time—or maybe ever.
"Aria," Henley's voice came out rough. He instinctively reached out, wanting to wipe away her tears, but his movements were clumsy due to the IV in his hand and his weakened state.
Aria didn't care. She threw herself to his bedside, burying her face in the crook of his uninjured neck, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
Henley's body stiffened for a moment. Then, a strange, tender urge welled up inside him.
He lifted his one movable arm, hesitating at first, but finally wrapped it firmly around Aria's shoulders, gently holding her close. Then, he lowered his head and placed an awkward, inexperienced kiss on her tear-soaked forehead.
Aria's sobs stopped abruptly, her body tensing slightly.
Henley kissed her once, but it didn't feel like enough. He moved from her forehead to her damp eyelids, kissing away the salty tears, and finally, after a brief hesitation, lightly pressed his lips to hers, which were slightly parted in surprise.
The kiss was soft, brief, and lacked any real skill—just a simple touch of lips, tasting of bitter medicine and salty tears.
But to both of them, it felt like it lasted forever.
Henley pulled back, breathing slightly harder, a rare faint blush spreading across his pale face. His eyes darted away, but he couldn't help looking at her again.
"Sorry," he said quietly, his voice much softer than before, "I won't pull out the IV. I promise. I'll take care of myself, get better fast, and then I'll go find Ms. Lorraine. I won't let anything happen to her."
"Mr. Luca won't let anything happen to her either. We'll find her and bring her back safely."
Aria, still dazed from the kiss, tears still clinging to her cheeks, stared at him blankly.
Henley, this tough, rugged man who seemed like he'd never have a soft side, had just kissed her with such gentleness?
There was no aggression, no force, just a clumsy, careful attempt to stop her tears.
Compared to the guys she'd met before, either too grabby or just trying to get her into bed—he was so much easier on the eyes.
A rush of heat surged to her cheeks. Suddenly, Aria reached out, wrapped her arms around Henley's neck, and slid onto the hospital bed beside him. Tilting her face up, she demanded with a mix of stubbornness and playfulness, "Kiss me again."
Henley's neck flushed red.
He froze, his arms stiffly holding her, his eyes flustered as he stammered, "Aria, no, I can't control myself. I can't do this here. I can't."
But Aria didn't care. She grabbed his uninjured hand and pressed it to her soft chest, her gaze bold and direct, "You can. I'm okay with it, so it's fine."
Henley yanked his hand back as if burned, his face turning so red it looked like it might bleed. His breathing quickened, and the wound in his abdomen seemed to throb from the emotional rush, making him wince.
But he still shook his head firmly, his voice almost pleading, "No, Aria. I need to recover fast, so I can't mess around. You want me to get better soon, to go with you to find Isabella, right? So, please, understand me, okay?"
His tone was so earnest that Aria's heart softened.
Seeing his embarrassed yet determined expression, and thinking of Isabella, whose whereabouts were still unknown, she finally sighed and loosened her hold on his neck, though she stayed nestled in his arms.
"Fine," Aria mumbled, resting her face against his chest, listening to his slightly rapid heartbeat, "Isabella's my best friend, after all. Once you're better, you have to find her."
She went quiet for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered a key point from their earlier conversation. Lifting her head, she asked curiously, "By the way, what's this package you were talking about? Does it have something to do with Isabella?"