Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 172

Shreds of paper fluttered through the air as the man’s lips twisted into a dark, unreadable smile.

“Go tell your mother that from now on, I won’t care whether she lives or dies. She’s on her own.”

A biting wind swept through, cold and merciless.

Ryan turned, watching the tall figure retreat into the distance. He had never seen Mr. Harrington like this before.

The Mr. Harrington of his memories…

Arrogant, yes—but when Ryan was too timid to eat, he’d always notice, reaching over to put food on his plate.

Overbearing, certainly—but when Ryan’s mother was sent to prison, he’d instructed the bodyguards, “Take care of Ryan as you would the young master.”

Cold, often—but sometimes, there was a flicker of sorrow behind those eyes.

Ryan glanced down at the back of his hand, where a single tear had landed, cold and wet. His mind felt hazy, lost.

…

In the examination room, the doctor was doing Charlotte’s final post-surgery check before discharge.

He compared her scans back and forth, muttering in disbelief. “The way these bones have healed… It’s extraordinary. In twenty years of practice, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Bradley stood nearby, catching every word.

His expression darkened slightly as his gaze fell on Charlotte’s face.

She was turned just a little, sunlight streaming across her profile, her skin smooth as ivory, lips pink and delicate as a newborn’s, glistening ever so slightly.

She looked sweet and lovely, but there was a quiet resilience in her eyes—like a winter rose blooming against the snow, cool and beautiful, yet impossible to look away from.

Suddenly, Charlotte turned and met his gaze, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

Bradley’s heart stuttered, caught off guard.

He found himself holding his breath, a flicker of something complicated passing through his deep blue eyes.

The doctor rattled off the usual reminders—no strenuous activity, stick to your physical therapy—and finally signed her discharge papers.

Once everything was settled, Bradley wheeled Charlotte out to the hospital entrance.

The rain had stopped; the world smelled fresh and clean.

“Mr. Harrington.”

A subordinate’s voice crackled over the speaker.

“Ms. Lawson and Ryan entered Bradley’s luxury penthouse at the Twin Towers. They haven’t come out.”

“Looks like… they’re living together.”

Living together?

Just the thought of Charlotte tangled up in bed with Bradley sent a wild flash of anger through Darren. His vision went red.

He shot up from the couch, snatching his jacket from the chair and heading for the door.

“Mr. Harrington, you’ve had ten bottles of whiskey. You can’t go out—”

“Out of my way!”

He shoved the bodyguard aside, muttering to himself through clenched teeth, “Charlotte, want to sleep with Bradley? You think I’m dead? I won’t allow it!”