Unable to form any kind of reaction, feeling completely frozen, Michel continued.

"You did enough damage. So you might have five minutes with him, but after that, we're done. Is that clear?"


She did not answer.

"I ask you a question."

"Are not."


"Sorry?"

Rosabella stood up and crossed her arms.


"You heard me. I stayed."

Michel took a step forward and towered over her.

"You listen to me. This has turned sour enough already, so I hope you go so far that you won't find your way back. I'm his boss and if I say you're not good enough for him, that's what it is. Charles will do his duty to his family and move on."

"You may be his boss, but I'm his woman so we'll take a look at that."

The two stared at each other without blinking.

Standing there, it all suddenly made sense to Rosabella.

She feels freer than before. She has been fighting her feelings for so long and has suppressed herself for no good reason.

Now that she had said all that needed to be said, she felt relieved.

Perhaps all of this began as something that was forced upon her, but today, this life, and Charles, is her choice, and she said yes to all of them.

Michel insisted on going together.

Rosabella didn't know if it was to defame her after their argument or simply because he didn't want to leave her unprotected in the waiting room.

Despite thinking about it, she eventually came to the conclusion that he knew she wouldn't go out quickly once she was allowed in.

And he was right. As soon as they entered the private ICU, Rosabella had no intention of leaving it anytime soon.

When she saw Charles lying on the hospital bed, Rosabella took a deep breath. As a nurse, she is used to seeing all kinds of traumas and situations.

However, walking into the room today, she didn't know what to expect. She certainly wasn't prepared to see Charles unconscious, looking pale and sickly as a thick tube was taped into his mouth while smaller catheters stuck to his arm.

For the first time that day, she understood that he must have been shot in the stomach as he was topless with a large bandage wrapped around his midsection.

While she's only been honest about her feelings and has openly put them on the table for all to see, Rosabella still has trouble appearing weak and vulnerable.

So instead of breaking down at the sight she felt like doing, she did the only thing that was most familiar to her. She translates her anger into purpose and action.

Almost immediately, she found herself in nurse mode, examining him as she assessed him from head to toe, scrutinizing the tubes and bandages while panting uncomfortably.

Michel was silent beside her, but when she turned to look at him, she saw an expression she had never seen before.

Does she detect respect? However, Rosabella didn't get a chance to explain because at that moment a nurse came in with a big smile on her face, which was in stark contrast to what was happening in the room.

"Oh, our patient already has a visitor, I see." She commented in a sunny voice, which angered Rosabella even more.

"I would like to see the doctor and his assigned nurse," Rosabella said, not a dignified declaration.

"The doctor is with another patient at the moment. He'll be back to check on him in an hour. And I'm his nurse, ma'am."

"It's you." Rosabella's voice dropped as she exchanged a silent look with Michel, who quickly caught on to the fact that she was not satisfied with the treatment.

"So can you explain to me why his tubes are misplaced?"

The nurse paused for a moment and looked up from the file in her hand, looking confused.

"What?"

"And bandages?"

Again, the nurse appeared completely surprised and confused about what was happening.

"Ma'am, we did a thorough job taking care of this patient. Listen, I know it must be sad to see a loved one in such a state, but I can assure you that our expertise has made…"

"No, you listen here," Rosabella shouted at her.

The nurse's gaze shifted from her to Michel, hoping that he would intervene, but as he simply crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the scene to unravel, she had no choice but to listen to an angry guest.

"You think I'm just upset? I'm so angry you did a crap job of taking care of him. Don't give me the general comment that you're a medical professional and I don't know what I'm doing. What to talk about. For your information, I'm a senior ICU nurse and I can tell you right now that a five-year-old can do better." She barked at the nurse, waving her arms.

"Look at his catheter. Unless you don't mind his arms turning blue within the next hour, they need to be adjusted. And those bandages are so poorly wrapped. His wound is now a massive fatty infection waiting to happen." She continued, circling the bed to approach the nurse.

"So I tell you what we do now. You get me all these - and I mean all, catheters, needles, disinfectants, bandages, whatever is needed - so that I can do better or you can accept the fact that you won't have teeth for the next thirty minutes."

The nurse paled and took a shaky breath as she tried to hide her trembling hands in the pockets of her blue coat.

"Lady, with all due respect, I cannot do this. I will be disqualified and..."

She was interrupted when Michel stepped forward and interrupted her.

"I'm Michael Miller." He simply said, emphasizing the name.

Immediately, there was a sense of recognition on the nurse's face as her mouth opened and her eyes widened.

She knows well that there are special perks that come from bearing the last name Miller.

"I'll have to check with the doctor."