Chapter 641

Hannah had scarcely finished her sentence when Vincent's face darkened so swiftly that it was as though thunderclouds had gathered behind his eyes.Without a word, he shot to his feet, seized her phone from her grasp, and spoke in a voice trembling with reined-in anger. "I forbid it."

The sudden vehemence of his action stunned Hannah, but she quickly steadied herself, arching an eyebrow as her gaze met his.

Vincent's stare locked onto her with an intensity that stripped the air of calm; his Adam's apple bobbed once in a sharp swallow. An unbidden surge of emotion swept through him, scattering every thread of restraint. He bent down, one hand braced against the bed beside her, the other lifting her chin with a firm gentleness, and before he could think better of it, his lips descended toward hers. Just as the space between them vanished, a sharp knock fractured the moment.

A nurse entered briskly, pushing a cart laden with medical instruments.

Hannah instinctively leaned back, a quiet laugh escaping her lips like a flicker of mischief.

Vincent's expression tightened in visible irritation,but he straightened himself, masking the turmoil beneath a rigid calm, and returned to his seát on the sofa.

Hannah turned toward the nurse, faint confusion stirring within her. Her wound had already been dressed-what else was there to do?

The nurse grumbled with open disapproval as she arranged the tools, "Kissing, really? Can't you see she's injured? What kind of husband behaves like that?" Her eyes flicked accusingly to Vincent, her meaning unmistakable.

Vincent's brows drew together, his gaze glacial, but he said nothing. He was not the kind of man who wasted breath on strangers.

Hannah found the nurse's indignation baffling-they had never met before. Politeness compelled her to clarify, "I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm not his wife."

To Hannah's astonishment, the nurse's outrage only flared brighter. She straightened, voice rising with moral fervor. "Not his wife? You mean he refuses even to acknowledge your relationship? And you still stay by his side? A man like that doesn't deserve such loyalty!"

As the nurse spoke, her hands moved swiftly,tightening a tourniquet, wiping the crook of Hannah's arm with alcohol, and readying a needle.

Both Vincent and Hannah froze, exchanging bewildered glances.

Hannah, utterly perplexed, stared at the nurse and asked cautiously, "Excuse me, why are you drawing my blood? The doctor said nothing about any blood test when he treated me earlier."

The nurse stopped, confused, and looked at Hannah."Wait, you're not donating blood? Didn't this gentleman ask you to give some to his mistress? My colleague told me a man in VIP Room 1 requested his wife to donate blood for his mistress, since only his wife's blood type matched hers."

Hearing this, Hannah's eyebrows lifted in playfulness as she glanced at Vincent. "Oh? Another affair partner, Vincent? And now you need my blood to save her life?"

Vincent's eyes darkened to an iron hue. He turned toward the nurse, his tone freezing the air. "Are you sure you're not mistaken?"

The nurse faltered, shrinking a little under his severe presence, yet tried to hold her ground. "Mistaken? l-I don't think so. Isn't this VIP Room 1? I was specifically told to come here and draw the blood."

In truth, the nurse was new to the job, too easily swayed by gossip and indignant on behalf of the wronged wife, and her attempt at justice had clearly gone astray. Judging from the startled looks on their faces, she realized neither of them fit the story she had heard.

Sighing inwardly, Hannah decided to set things straight. "You've definitely come to the wrong room,"she said gently. "I only had a few bruises treated,nothing that requires a blood test-and certainly no affair partner waiting to be rescued. The people you're looking for must be next door."

The nurse froze in embarrassment, unsure what to say, when her phone began to ring. She hurriedly answered, listened, and her expression twisted in mortification. "What? Room 2? Holy shit! I'll be right there!"

Ending the call, the nurse flushed crimson, bowing repeatedly. "I'm terribly sorry! I really mixed it up. It's the husband next door-he's the one trying to make his wife donate blood for his mistress. Unwilling to donate blood, his wife ran away and locked herself in the VIP Room 2. I'll leave now. My sinc erest apologies for disturbing you both!"

In a fluster of movement, the nurse gathered her tools, nearly sprinted out, and gently pulled the door shut behind her.

Silence descended on the room once more, thicker than before, charged with awkward tension.

After a long pause, Vincent spoke, his tone low and edged with disbelief. "Did you just say I have another affair partner?" He caught onto the word liké a snare tightening. "'Another'-meaning what exactly? You're implying there was one before?"

Hannah blinked slowly, her voice intentionally vague and teasing. "Well,you could put it that way."

Her evasive answer only fueled his irritation. His gaze fixed on her, sharp and searching. "Explain. What do you mean, 'could put it that way'?"

Since the accident had stripped him of his memories,every fragment of his past was a shadow he couldn't reach. Anything hinting at betrayal-or pain he might have caused Hannah-stirred a deep, instinctive unease in him. He could endure many things, but not the possibility that the man he used to be had once wounded the woman sitting before him.