"Would you like to see Mr. Anderson?" Horace's voice drew her back to reality.

Noticing his puzzled expression, she realized she must have inadvertently whispered Theodore's name while lost in her thoughts.

Regaining her composure, she asked, "Where is he?"

"He may be occupied at the moment—" Horace hesitated briefly before continuing, “But if you wish to see him, I can contact him immediately. I'm certain he'd be delighted to hear from you."

Ariana lowered her gaze, took a moment to think, and then shook her head.

"Never mind. If he's busy, I don't want to interrupt. It's nothing urgent."

With that, she headed back to her room, leaving Horace standing there, staring thoughtfully at her retreating figure.

Meanwhile, Theodore was a few floors above, in a ward. He was confronted by Zayden, who had just been wheeled out of surgery after having a bullet extracted.

Zayden, pale and his leg heavily bandaged, was flanked by five of Theodore's security guards, all dressed in black. His handsome face devoid of emotion, Theodore stared down at him, filling the room with a suffocating silence.

Zayden was at the mercy of Theodore, who had put him in the wheelchair. But in his current condition, any form of retaliation was out of the question.

"She wasn't injured, was she?" he demanded, his grip on the wheelchair's armrests tightening.

Instead of answering, Theodore fixed him with an intense stare, sending chills down Zayden's spine.

Despite the discomfort of Theodore's penetrating gaze, Zayden forced himself to meet his eyes.

"If she's unharmed, when are you planning to release me?"

"Release you?” Theodore's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "I've told you before, if any harm befalls her, I'll make you pay ten times over. Seems like your memory is seriously lacking."

“You bastard!" Zayden felt the urge to leap up and grab Theodore by the collar, but he knew he was outmatched. Frustration filled his eyes as he glared at Theodore.

“You already shot me in the leg, what more do you want?"

Stark contrast to Zayden's seething anger, Theodore remained eerily composed, picking up the medical report from the table. Regret flashed across his face as he said, “Such a shame. It's been ages since I last fired a gun. My aim might be a bit rusty."

Casually, he tossed the report in front of Zayden, each word landing with the weight of a stone.

"Otherwise, your leg would be completely ruined."