Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 557

Speaking with evident delight, Grace gloated, "Dorothea, Don looks like he has clinical depression. People with that kind of illness seem normal most of the time. They can laugh and talk, but one day they might just kill themselves. It's terrifying.

"Still, I find it strange," she added with contempt. "Don's not the type to get sick like that. How can a grown man behave as if he would die for one woman? Pathetic."

While Dorothea fretted and Grace sneered, Ethan stood quietly apart. His attention was entirely on Donovan, and he held a gaze so intent that it seemed to ache with effort.

Seeing the blood on Donovan's face and the stunned, numbed shell he'd become after that violent outburst, Ethan felt his own heart break.

Doubt gnawed at him. Had his decisions been right or wrong? Could such a huge secret really be kept forever?

It had only been a year, and only a faint rumor had reached them, yet Donovan had erupted into this catastrophe. If they kept hiding the truth, what would the consequences be?

Ethan could not bear to follow that train of thought further.

Still, watching the cruel smear of blood on Donovan's head and remembering the moment he smashed the bottle down, Ethan's inner defenses finally collapsed.

By the time the doctor finished dressing Donovan's wound and the man had finally settled down, Ethan had worked off his anxiety by pacing the living room, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window, stepping outside for air, and wrestling with himself for a long, fraught time.

Only when Donovan's wounds were finally tended to and his rage had cooled did Ethan step closer. His voice was low and heavy as he said, "Don, I'm sorry."

"It was my fault," Ethan admitted, his voice trembling. "At the time, I worked with Tony to deceive Don and everyone else. Giselle was sent abroad for treatment. She regained consciousness. She recovered."

Zachary gaped in disbelief. "Dad, are you serious? What are you saying? Nobody is making sense tonight."

"This is ridiculous," Grace said, convinced she had misheard. "You mean Giselle is still alive? She is alive? You are insane. She died, did she not? She was cremated. We held a funeral. We gave her a grave and a headstone. How can you say—"

Before she could finish, Donovan leaped up like a man unmoored, seizing Ethan's arm with frantic strength. His breath came in ragged gasps, his voice raw and hoarse.

"Where is she? Where is she now? Take me to her. Now!"