"Miranda, can you do me a favor?"
After Juliet was moved to the VIP suite, Cynthia finally managed to calm herself.
Camilla was in the room, looking after Juliet.
Juliet lay in bed, an IV drip in her hand. The sterile scent of the hospital hung in the air.
Noticing how Camilla kept bumping into things, her mind clearly elsewhere, Juliet spoke quietly.
"Camilla, you know, don't you?"
Camilla set down the rag she'd been using to clean the window and nodded, her voice thick with tears.
"Yes."
Juliet let out a soft sigh, her chest rising and falling with the effort. She lowered her voice.
"Don't let Cynthia find out."
But Cynthia was already at the door, her eyes red from crying.
She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and then pushed open the door, forcing a casual tone.
"So you didn't want me to know. When exactly were you planning to tell me?"
Juliet winced and looked away, clearly bothered.
Cynthia crossed the room, taking the seat beside Juliet's bed, her expression grave.
"You should've told me sooner. Keeping this from me—it's not fair."
"Stomach cancer caught early is very treatable, Juliet. You need to cooperate with the doctors. Starting tomorrow, I'll take over the operations at Tremaine Holdings."
Juliet's brow furrowed, her eyes darkening as she fixed Cynthia with a stern look.
"What you need to do is start at Holloway Enterprises as soon as possible."
Cynthia glared at her, matching her seriousness.
"So I join Holloway, and you keep burning yourself out at Tremaine Holdings—what then? You get sicker and sicker, put off proper treatment, and miss your best shot at recovery?"
Juliet's face turned cold. She glanced toward the doorway.
Remembering that Dominic had driven her here, Cynthia suddenly forced herself to calm down. She turned to Camilla, her voice low.
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