The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 500

He was actually going to stay quiet?

The man was truly something else. His poker face was...

"Is Abacus asleep?"

When the familiar voice broke the silence, Galen mentally rolled his eyes. He had vastly overestimated him.

Franco tightened the fists resting by his sides. His gaze was locked onto Petty's face, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly.

His deep voice carried a hint of hesitance. Taking the hint, Galen signaled for his guys to give them some privacy, and they quickly slipped away.

Petty offered a soft hum of agreement.

She glanced at his clothes, her lips parting slightly. Before she could speak, he beat her to it. "I just had some business to take care of. My injuries are fine."

Galen, who was still within earshot, rolled his eyes again. She hadn't even asked, yet here he was, tripping over himself to explain.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

If the ruthless titan of Cabinda's business world was seen groveling before the woman he loved like this, the shock alone would take out half the city.

"I'll walk you back to your room."

He reached out and gently took her hand.

His palm was broad and warm, the faint calluses on his fingers brushing her skin as he engulfed her hand in his. She didn't pull away, nor did she verbally agree, simply letting him lead her down the hall.

Her route required them to pass his hospital room first.

Galen and the others had just gone inside, leaving the door ajar. Through the gap, Franco immediately spotted a familiar figure sitting on the sofa, flipping through his medical chart. The man's brows knitted in deep concentration, punctuated by occasional scoffs.

The man had a head full of silver hair but carried himself with vigorous energy. He wore a dark, high-collared silk suit and was flanked by a stoic aide-de-camp.

The boy couldn't even keep the woman he loved by his side!

Absolutely useless.

Arthur didn't spare his grandson another glance, leaning on his cane as he made his way over to Petty.

As Franco's maternal grandfather, he had watched Petty grow up alongside the White family. She had always called him "Grandpa" just like Franco did, and their eventual marriage had cemented the bond.

Back when Franco was a teenager, Arthur would drag him to the military compound during holidays for rigorous training. Petty had secretly sneaked in to watch a few times. She thought she was being stealthy, but the boy had been acutely aware of her presence, secretly thrilling at it while pretending total ignorance.

Arthur had watched it all unfold over the years, only to be sternly warned off meddling by his infuriating grandson.

The man had enlisted at eighteen, grinding his way from a raw recruit to a decorated General. Even in retirement, he was the revered old commander of the compound. He wasn't used to taking orders from anyone.

Last week, while visiting old comrades down south, he had received an urgent call from Franco requesting backup to rescue Petty. Everyone had kept him in the dark about their injuries; he had only found out they were hospitalized while en route back to Cabinda that morning.