RedNovelRegret 148 "We should get divorced. I want to set you free." Those words echoed in Evander's mind as he stood there, his expression icy and unreadable.
"Grandmother already agreed," Charlotte said, pulling her hand from his grasp once more. "She toldshe wouldn't interfere with our divorce." The moment she broke free, Evander's tightly restrained emotions snapped. He swept her back into his arms, backing her up against the glass door in two brisk strides.
He reached up and slipped the band from her hair, letting the dark, seaweed-like waves tumble down in disarray, strands wrapping around his forearm.
Charlotte's pupils contracted; she could sense what he'd do next and turned her face away, dodging his kiss.
He paused, then caught her cheek in his palm and forced her to meet his gaze, kissing her fiercely.
She clenched her teeth, refusing to respond, but he simply stole her breath away. When she was on the verge of suffocating, he seized the chance and deepened the kiss.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThe more she struggled, the more relentless he became, until she gave in and surrendered, defeated.
Evander finally broke away, his fingertips tracing the heated flush on her face-a shade made more striking by her breathlessness.
He'd always been good at hiding the sides of himself he didn't want others to see, but with her, he kept losing control. And this time, he'd gone further than ever.
"Didn't you clear out sthings?" he asked, steering away from the topic of divorce. "I thought I might get you something new. Jewelry? A purse? Or maybe sclothes?" As if, by not mentioning it, the whole divorce would simply vanish.
Charlotte's patience snapped. "I don't want anything." "Then what do you want?" "I want my father to be alive." 1/3 13:06 Chapter 148 He stared at her, silent.
Charlotte wiped the lingering warmth of his kiss from her lips and pushed him. aside, moving away. "Evander, let's not talk about Hiram for now. Just my father alone-what happened to him is something I'll never forget, and I'll never forgive." She left, walking out of the conference room.
Heading toward her office, Charlotte's anger only grew. She wished she could rip her own lips off and replace them with a new pair.
"Dr. Sterling." She looked up at the sound of someone calling her name. At the nurse's station, only Vera was present.
After glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Vera slipped Charlotte a folded note before hurrying back to her post.
Charlotte didn't open the note right away. She clenched it in her hand until she reached her office, then finally read the contents in private.
The next morning, two hours before surgery, Charlotte met with her team again to review every detail of the procedure, making sure nothing could go wrong.
As she changed into her scrubs outside the operating room, Charlotte noticed a new assistant. Even with her mask on, the nerves were obvious in her eyes.
"First tin surgery?" Charlotte asked gently.
The new assistant froze for an instant, then nodded. "... Yes, it's my first." "Don't worry. Everyone has a first time." "Thank you, Dr. Sterling." The young woman nodded gratefully and hurried off to prepare the anesthetics for the anesthesiologist.
After the surgical instruments were set out by the resident and Dr. Sinclair, everyone was waiting for Charlotte's cue.
She stepped over to the operating table and used a marker to outline the tumor's location on Mrs. Rivers' bare scalp.
The new assistant handed over the anesthetic, and thesiologist began measuring the the proper dosage based on the patient's weight and height. Charlotte's gaze flicked to the syringe in the anesthesiologist's hand, then back to 2/3 13:06 the assistant. Their eyes met for a second, and the assistant flinched, visibly anxious.
Just as the anesthesiologist was about to inject the drug, Charlotte spoke up. “Wait." Dr. Sinclair looked over. "What's wrong?" All eyes turned to Charlotte.
The new assistant was gripping her sleeve so tightly her knuckles turned white, hardly daring to breathe.
"Letsee that," Charlotte said to the anesthesiologist. She took the syringe examined it, and asked, "Mrs. Rivers is allergic to Propofol. Why is this Propofol?" The anesthesiologist blinked. "Isn't that fentanyl?" He took the syringe back, double-checked the label, then looked at the bottle he'd drawn it from. "It says fentanyl right here."
"Fentanyl is with me." Charlotte pulled a vial from her pocket. "I asked the the pharmacy this morning to set it aside for me. So how do you explain this extra anesthetic?" 212
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