The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 502

Arthur Shepherd took a sip of water and slammed his thermos onto the table, his voice booming across the room. "Chasing her? My ass!"

"Have you lost your damn mind?"

"If you were ready to risk everything back then, why did you hurt her so deeply? And now you think you can just win her back? The world doesn't work like that!"

Even though he was Franco's grandfather, the retired general was ruthlessly impartial. He focused on the facts, not the bloodline.

If his own daughter were standing here defending Franco today, he would have laid into her too.

Scolding him from the chair wasn't enough. Arthur shot to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at Franco.

"I don't care how much you were suffering. You created this mess, and you need to face the consequences. A woman is meant to be cherished, not damaged. I won't even waste my breath listing the bastardly things you've done! If you're going to try and win her back, back off for a minute. Given Petty's current attitude toward you, the harder you push, the further she'll run. Don't back her into a corner!"

He glared at Franco, a mix of fury and helpless exhaustion in his eyes.

He knew his grandson's stubborn temper better than anyone.

But at the end of the day, Franco was still his flesh and blood. The scolding would have to be enough.

"Heal your wounds first."

Franco remained silent.

Arthur smacked Franco hard on the shoulder. "Can you handle that?"

Franco's injuries were concentrated on his back and shoulders. That slap sent a jolt of bone-deep pain radiating through him, but his expression didn't change. He didn't even flinch. "There's one more thing I kept from you."

The old man had just been regretting hitting him so hard. Hearing Franco's words, he frowned. No wonder the boy was taking it so quietly—he was feeling guilty.

"What kind of trouble did you cause behind my back this time?"

He calmly pulled his gaze away. The moment he turned his head, he saw Amy stepping out of the elevator, loaded down with grocery bags. She walked right past him, heading toward Petty's room.

As she drew level with him, Amy's eyes instinctively dropped to Jay's chest.

It was a warm day, and Jay was wearing nothing but a black long-sleeved tee. He was incredibly well-built. A shirt that would have hung loosely on any normal man clung to his frame like a second skin.

Amy raised an eyebrow. She had noticed this stoic guy had a decent build back when he was wearing a tactical jacket—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs.

She just hadn't expected him to be this sculpted underneath.

"What are you looking at?" Jay asked with his usual cold demeanor. Meeting Amy's brazen stare, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at her.

He had encountered all kinds of women, but very few had ever checked him out this blatantly.

Amy was thirsty but lacked the nerve to fully own it. Caught in the act, the tips of her ears flushed red, but she forced a brazen smirk. "Just looking. Is it a crime to admire a nice chest?"