Chapter 267

Vincent's gaze flicked to the glowing digits on his monitor-11:47 p.m. His brows furrowed even deeper.His voice rasped with exhaustion, the roughness betraying both sickness and too many sleepless nights. "You decided to check on a patient this late?"

Hannah dropped the thermos onto his nightstand with a purposeful clatter. She angled her face away from him, dodging his intense eyes. Her tone was brisk, edged with a forced nonchalance that didn't quite hide the tension beneath. "Why not? I've barely had a moment to breathe. This was the only window l had."

"Even with your schedule packed... you still made time for me." Vincent's stare lingered on her, quiet and searching. "Were you concerned?"

His mouth curved, the hint of a smile barely there.

Hannah ignored his question entirely,busying herself with scooping soup from the thermos, her movements brisk and precise. She extended the bowl toward him. "Try a bit."

Vincent's gaze lingered on her face, reading her expression before he finally looked down at the bowl.He didn't take it right away. Instead, he looked up,meeting her slightly evasive eyes. "Did you cook this?"

Her denial came sharp and fast-almost too fast."No, obviously not." Her voice hitched, betraying a flicker of embarrassment. "I just picked it up from a restaurant."

She thrust the bowl into his hands, hiding her discomfort behind a prickly edge. "Come on-before it gets cold."

Vincent didn't press further. He accepted the bowl in silence. He sipped at the soup unhurriedly, each taste echoing in the hush of the room-only the quiet scrape of his spoon and the soft sound of swallowing filled the space.

After a few spoonfuls, he shattered the silence. "So what dragged you here at midnight?"

His words were gentle, barely above a whisper, but in the stillness, they seemed to hang between them.

Hannah made a show of adjusting the thermos lid,but the motion faltered for a second at his words.She kept her gaze lowered, her voice deliberately sharp. "I just wanted to check if you were still breathing.Heard from Derek you're planning to check yourself out tomorrow? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Hannah finally looked up, meeting his eyes with a flash of dry defiance. "Vincent, you really believe the company will fall apart just because you're gone for a day?"

Vincent's grip tightened ever so slightly on his spoon, but he let the jab slide. Instead, he studied her for a long moment, taking in every nuance of her expression. "What about you? How are you holding up?"

The question caught her off balance, and her lips parted in surprise. "Me? What are you even asking?"

He leaned in, voice deepening, steady as a heartbeat. "After the fire, didn't Claude rush you to the hospital? Are you all right?"

Hannah shifted in her seat, suddenly uneasy beneath the weight of his gaze. The raw concern in his voice threatened to unravel her composure, and she found herself glancing away. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice clipped, every syllable sharp with distance.

She leaned in, shifting the topic. "But you, Vincent-what on earth are you thinking? Your back's still a mess, your fracture's nowhere close to healed, and now you're talking about heading back to work tomorrow? What are you, made of steel?"

Vincent's posture stiffened under her barrage, her frustration cutting through the air. He dropped the bowl on the nightstand. He studied her for a moment and then spoke in that steady, matter-of-fact way."You're concerned about me."

There was no hint of a question-just quiet certainty.

Hannah shot back instantly, her voice rising with indignant denial, "Concerned about you? Get over yourself!"

She even unconsciously took a half step back.

Vincent dropped his gaze, reaching for the now-lukewarm soup sitting on the nightstand. He gave it a slow stir, the spoon circling with a faint clink as he searched for something to say. "The soup's not bad,"he murmured.

Hannah's tone returned to its earlier sharpness."Forget the soup! I want an answer-are you seriously planning to discharge yourself tomnorrow?"

Vincent stayed focused on his bowl, taking a slow spoonful. He swallowed, waited a beat, and then replied in his steady, unreadable way, "I am."

Hannah's expression clouded over. Her lips parted,ready to unleash another tirade.

But Vincent looked up, eyes locking on hers, the hint

of a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. The icy mask he'd worn all night melted just enough for a sliver of warmth to break through. "But, actually," he said, voice softer, "my mood's better now. Since I'm feeling decent, maybe there's no rush to leave after all."

The sudden shift' in his demeanor left Hannah momentarily speechless. She found herself blurting out, "Unbelievable. You really are impossible to figure out."

Vincent barely reacted to her barb, only following her words with a thoughtful frown, as if weighing her accusation seriously. "Maybe I have been a bit unpredictable lately," he admitted, voice low and even.

He brushed aside the thought and steered the conversation toward the fire report. Hannah summarized the current report, explaining that investigators blamed the incident on a wiring fault-just an accident, as far as anyone could tell.

Vincent listened, his expression unreadable, until a

hard line creased his brow. "Claude's got some explaining to do about all this."

Hannah shot back without thinking, "You can't pin everything on Claude. He might've been in charge,but he was blindsided like the rest of us. Fontaine Galleria took a real hit."

Vincent's face turned to stone. "You never miss a chance to shield him, do you?" His voice dropped to an icy whisper. "How touching. Tell me-are you two already planning your happy ending? Is this your big reveal?"