Chapter 1542:

Nate rubbed his forehead, enduring Elva’s hollow platitudes before responding with glacial precision. “Do you truly believe mere words can settle this matter?” His voice dropped to a bone-chilling timbre, seeming to crystallize the air around him.

Though Elva’s apology appeared genuine at first glance, she cleverly disguised Amelie’s calculated malice as simple foolishness. Her intention was transparent—diminish the gravity of what had occurred. Her strategic mentions of the Quinn family superficially acknowledged fault while subtly reminding Nate of their influence.

On the other end, Elva’s breath hitched as Nate’s frigid voice sliced through her carefully constructed narrative. “You and the Quinn family crossed a dangerous threshold by targeting someone under my protection. After today, you’ll understand the price of such arrogance.”

He terminated the call abruptly, denying her any chance to respond.

Across the desk, Maddox remained silent, his expression troubled. That final declaration had unmistakably thrown down the gauntlet to the Quinn family. Evidently, empty apologies would prove woefully inadequate to mend this fracture.

But such a reaction was entirely predictable—Corrine occupied the most sacred place in Nate’s carefully guarded heart. Those who dared play with such dangerous fire inevitably found themselves consumed by the flames, without exception.

After ending the call, Nate strode out of the study without a word. Left behind in silence, Maddox released a quiet sigh before rising to follow suit.

Once outside with Saul, he lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face in the dim corridor. He exhaled slowly and asked, almost idly, “So… what’s Nate planning to do with the Quinns?”

Saul took his time. His silence stretched thin before he finally spoke. “No matter what path he chooses, the Quinn family is finished.”

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A faint smirk curled at Maddox’s lips—one of those knowing smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Though Saul’s words had been careful, both men understood the truth: the Quinns had already been marked for ruin.

Their gravest mistake hadn’t been their attempt to kidnap and harm Corrine—it was misjudging her value to Nate. Perhaps they thought she was just another fleeting presence in his life. A temporary affair. Easily replaced. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

When Nate returned quietly to the room, his gaze went straight to the sleeping figure on the bed. He moved silently, almost like a shadow, kneeling at her side. When he saw the subtle crease in her brow, he reached out, fingers gently brushing across her skin.

But the moment he touched her, he froze. Her skin was burning hot.

His expression hardened in an instant, and he pulled out his phone to dial the doctor who had left earlier.

Corrine’s fever surged like a wildfire, relentless and irrational, leaving even the doctor confounded. Ice packs, injections, fever reducers—none of it worked.

Nate sat on the couch like a storm barely contained, every line of his body tense, his presence sharp and suffocating. It was hard to breathe. The doctor stood before him, drenched in cold sweat.

“Mr. Hopkins, we’ve exhausted every option we can think of, but…”

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