[Hospital]
The corridor outside the private ward buzzed with muted urgency—nurses moving briskly, the scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air—but Hugo Bennett heard none of it.
All he could hear was the pounding of his own blood.
"She attacked you?" His voice was low, dangerous, each word clipped as if restraint alone was keeping something far worse at bay.
Roseline sat on the edge of the hospital bed, her arm freshly bandaged, pale beneath the harsh white lights. She looked fragile—small, even—nothing like the composed woman who usually stood beside him with quiet efficiency.
"I didn't want to upset you," Roseline said softly, eyes lowered. "I tried to handle it on my own."
Hugo's hands clenched into fists. "You should have told me."
She flinched at his tone, just slightly, just enough.
