Fated Marriage Spoiled by My Ice Billionaire novel Chapter 152

"Who are you? What do you want?" Finley struggled.

The two bodyguards beside Damian shielded him and Isabelle, moving them aside.

"Too noisy," the old man said.

As soon as he spoke, a bodyguard covered Finley's mouth and dragged him away.

Finley fought desperately. He didn't know who he had offended this time, but he was no match for the trained guards.

Damian turned slightly, blocking Isabelle's view. He didn't want her to have nightmares again tonight.

With Finley gone, the hospital hallway fell quiet.

The old man remained standing there.

Leaning on his cane, he looked toward Isabelle.

He gave a nod to Damian, who returned it.

Damian recognized him—Jonathan's grandfather, Christian Foster. They'd met once or twice; he couldn't be mistaken.

Christian? Why is he here?

Damian's expression shifted slightly.

Isabelle, noticing his distraction, squeezed his hand. "What's wrong?"

Damian snapped out of it. "Nothing."

"Let's go in and see her."

"Okay."

Isabelle wasn't concerned about Finley.

A spineless jerk like him deserved whatever came his way.

The two bodyguards stayed outside the door as Isabelle and Damian entered Ashley's room.

Ashley lay in bed, one hand hooked to an IV, the other thickly bandaged.

Her face was pale.

In just one night, she seemed to have shrunk—drained of all her energy and spirit.

All her light and energy were gone, as if she were a doll without a soul.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Damian..."

Damian cut her off, "What's done is done. No need for apologies."

With that, he drew a clear line between them.

Ashley smiled faintly. The person who'd been hurt had moved on, while she, the one who caused the pain, was still clinging to the past.

She said, "Damian, I'm glad you've let go. Otherwise, I could never forgive myself."

Damian showed no reaction.

The first year, she'd heard Damian tried to end his life.

The stab wound she gave herself last night... it hurt so badly she could barely breathe, could hardly speak.

It made her feel, just a little, how shattered Damian must have been when she was sent away.

Putting herself in his place, her own pain seemed trivial.

So this is what it's like to be near death... Maybe the world isn't so broken after all.

Damian squeezed Isabelle's hand. His rebirth, all of it, was thanks to the woman beside him.

Brian checked his phone, pausing. Did I hear that right?

Since when do his orders come with a question mark?

Wasn't it usually—Get this done. You have three minutes. Fail, and you're out.

Has he changed?

Before they were together, Brian had fetched every bit of info without question.

But now that she was the one sharing his bed, still investigating her was just low.

Damian frowned.

Limits?

Since when does Brian have limits?

Isn't his limit just the thickness of the cash stack?

Where did these "limits" come from?

He was baffled.

Isabelle had cried all last night. This morning, she'd stayed close to him.

Aside from checking her phone now and then, she was calm—too calm, which worried him.

And just earlier, she'd shown Finley something that scared the life out of him.

Damian had had Finley looked into before, but nothing shocking came up.

Yet she'd uncovered Finley's dirty secrets in just a few hours this morning, cool and composed the whole time.

It made Damian see her in a new light.

There must be something else about Isabelle that I'm not aware of.

After a long silence from Damian's end, Brian continued, "You haven't been with her that long. Why not give it time? Don't be greedy. Good wine should be savored slowly."

Damian was confused.

Why does it feel like Brian knows something he's keeping from me?