The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 488

The elevator slowly ascended. Aaron stood silently beside Petty, the confined space thick with quiet tension. Petty looked like a beautiful, lifeless statue. She didn't even glance at the illuminated floor numbers, her gaze completely unfocused.

Aaron had noticed her alarming deterioration the day before. Even after visiting her son and returning to her room, she remained entirely closed off. Although she ate when prompted, she hadn't spoken a word in days. Early that morning, he had accidentally walked in on her standing by the window. She had been staring blankly into the distance, her fingertips absentmindedly picking at the fresh scar on her wrist. When she noticed him, she simply turned away as if nothing had happened.

The sight made his chest ache with worry. What would it take to bring back the vibrant, playful woman who used to joke around and play video games with him?

Unable to shake his unease, Aaron threw a dark look at J. Petty's depression was undeniably tied to Franco, whether directly or indirectly. And J was Franco's most loyal enforcer. In the past, Aaron would have vented his frustration by calling J a foolishly tall idiot, but now, he didn't dare cross him.

J met his resentful glare with an expressionless face. When the elevator doors finally chimed open, Aaron was still giving him a bitter side-eye. Without a word, J simply lifted his long leg and delivered a sharp kick to Aaron's shin.

"We're here," J said flatly.

"J, you..." Aaron gasped, biting back a curse. Not daring to retaliate, he winced and held the elevator door open, following Petty out into the hallway.

As he stepped out, Aaron glanced back. He noticed that the female doctor standing next to J was staring intensely at Petty. The moment she realized Aaron was watching, she casually averted her eyes. Aaron frowned, finding the exchange incredibly odd. But before he could investigate further, the elevator doors slid shut, cutting off his view.

Inside the descending elevator, Wendy Holt stared at the closed doors. Her gaze slowly shifted down to the large, scarred hand pressing the lobby button. She looked up, her expression puzzled as she studied J's cold, hardened profile.

It had been a long time. Ten years, to be exact. But she still remembered the severely wounded man at the border, the operative Franco had hidden away in an island tower. He had vanished the very next day. She never expected to find him serving as Franco's right-hand man all these years later.

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