She met his gaze and responded, "Mr. Fowler, should you assist my father, harmonious coexistence between us is conceivable!"

Waylen's Adam's apple subtly bobbed as he, too, smiled, his words a testament to his admiration.

"Rena, you are really something. It is no wonder both Harold and Tyrone hold you in such high regard!"

Tenderly, he Lightly pinched her chin.

Drawing nearer, he murmured, "Never did I expect you to be so cunning.

I long to conquer your every being.”

A mistiness enveloped Rena's eyes, her nose reddening as tears threatened to cascade forth.

She discerned Waylen's willingness to compromise.

Although relief coursed through her, the anguish she experienced became even more unbearable, manifesting as a throbbing ache in the pit of her stomach.

Her complexion turned pallid, a visual manifestation of her torment.

With every ounce of strength, she endeavored to endure the pain and uttered, “You may depart now, Mr. Fowler!"

Their relationship had irrevocably reached its end.

Waylen promptly rose from his seat, his actions resolute.

He left the meticulously crafted script, signed by Darren, upon the coffee table, entrusting it to Rena.

Stepping purposefully toward the door, Waylen grasped the handle, hesitated momentarily, and then pivoted back towards Rena.

Throughout the years, he had been unyielding, seldom plagued by indecisiveness.

However, he yearned to inquire once more, seeking confirmation of her genuine desire to sever ties with him and her staunch refusal to heed his guidance.

However, in the very instant he pivoted, his gaze fell upon Rena, collapsing in proximity to the coffee table. She huddled on the floor, her visage drained of color, presenting a haunting pallor.

"Rena!"

Waylen hastened to her side, stooping down to lift her tenderly.

“I'LL take you to the hospital."

Rena offered no resistance.