The Jilted Heiress' Return to the High Life - Chapter 575
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Chapter 575:
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“To my sons,” he said, locking eyes with Jayden and Waldo, “I have only one request. You must vow that no matter what happens in the future, no matter how dangerous the situation, you will protect Corrine at all costs. If it comes to it, you will risk your lives for her. Your mother is gone, and Corrine is her only daughter. She is family. She must always be safe.”
Jayden and Waldo exchanged a glance, both feeling a sense of resignation yet bound by the gravity of their father’s words. Under Carl’s unwavering gaze, they hesitated for only a moment before giving their solemn vow. Satisfied, Carl turned his attention to Corrine, beckoning her closer.
“Do you know what I want to say?”
Corrine lowered her gaze, concealing the turmoil swirling inside her.
“What is it, Grandpa?”
A knowing smile flickered across Carl’s face.
“So, you really don’t know? I’m about to go into surgery. Whether I make it through or not is up to fate, but there’s something I need you to promise me. From this day forward, I don’t want you anywhere near Nate. He is not the right man for you.”
Corrine’s lips parted, but no words came.
Carl sighed, shaking his head.
“Why must you always be so stubborn? Just like your mother! I’m about to go under the knife, and what if something happens to me? Can’t you just say ‘I promise,’ whether you mean it or not?”
Corrine’s grip on his hand tightened.
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“There is no ‘what if,’ Grandpa. The surgery will go smoothly.”
Even a man as strong as Carl Ford couldn’t fully mask his unease. The looming uncertainty of life and death clung to the air around him, and for a brief moment, his eyes betrayed his fear. He was worried about not waking up from the surgery.
“Grandpa, we will be waiting for you to come out,” Corrine assured him, her voice firm, her presence unwavering.
Carl studied her for a moment before drawing in a deep breath.
“Alright. When I’m out, we will talk.”
“Okay.”
The surgery stretched on for three long hours, each passing second thick with tension. But when the doors finally swung open, the operation had been a success.
Carl was wheeled out, his face pallid, his eyelids fluttering under the lingering effects of anesthesia. His breathing was steady, but he remained barely conscious.
Christos approached Corrine with a respectful nod.
“Miss Holland, given your grandfather’s age, we will be moving him to the ICU for 24-hour monitoring. Once his vital signs stabilize, we will transfer him to a regular room.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Corrine replied.
Christos offered a small smile.
“It’s my duty. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Corrine nodded before stepping closer to the ICU window. Her eyes locked onto Carl’s frail figure, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, searching for reassurance in the steady beeps of the heart monitor.
A warm hand suddenly enveloped her own. She looked up to find Jules beside her, his touch grounding her in the moment.
“Don’t worry. The doctor just said everything went well. Let’s head back for now and return tomorrow.”
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