Sorry, I'm the Final Boss Now novel Chapter 112

The girl was dressed casually in a simple black t-shirt and wide-leg pants. Her long hair, usually tied up, fell around her shoulders like a cascade of dark seaweed. She wore no makeup, but her skin was flawless and her nose perfectly sculpted. Her profile was breathtaking.

She held the honey bun, making the cheap pastry look like a gourmet delicacy.

Hannah shot the head nurse a smug look. Forcing Marguerite to transfer would be just as satisfying.

“Transferring is out of the question,” Joshua said, his tone shifting completely. “This hospital has never kicked out a patient, and we won’t start now.”

The head nurse, who had been staring at the floor, looked up in surprise. “Huh?”

Hannah’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

The showdown had come out of nowhere, and Joshua was completely unprepared. On one side was his old flame, the one who had practically come back from the dead; on the other was his frail, injured girlfriend. He was torn.

But he absolutely could not let Marguerite leave. This was his chance to get close to her again.

As if sensing the commotion, Marguerite glanced toward the doorway.

Joshua instinctively took a step back, avoiding her direct gaze. He turned and pulled Hannah into the adjacent suite. “Hannah, a hospital is like a restaurant. We can’t just kick out our customers.”

He continued, his voice low and urgent, “We’re public figures. If this got out, you know how vicious the media can be. The backlash would be huge.”

Hannah frowned. Seeing Marguerite had made her act on impulse, but thinking it over, Joshua had a point. That girl was no pushover; she’d recorded their conversation last time. If she pulled a similar stunt again, Hannah would be the one to suffer.

She lowered her gaze, pouting. “But I…”

Joshua pulled her into a hug, patting her back gently. “Be good, baby. I’ll buy you that designer bag you love, okay?”

Hannah’s voice softened. “Alright, Joshua. I’ll listen to you.”

Joshua’s mind was racing. Marguerite was still furious with him and wouldn’t give him the time of day, so apologizing was off the table. He needed another approach—something to provoke a reaction. He remembered when he and Hannah had been fighting; he’d ignored her at first, but when rumors about her and Theobald started swirling, his jealousy had flared, and he couldn’t stop himself from going back to her.

“This room is nice, too. You can stay here, how about it?” Joshua asked.

Theobald’s dark eyes darted to her. “I’m not nervous. Not at all.”

Anna just nodded. “That’s good, then.”

He shot her a look. Is she trying to soothe a child?

When he reached the room, he found the door ajar. The man in the impeccable black suit, usually so composed and powerful, stood frozen, his throat suddenly dry.

“Theobald, you’re here! Come in!”

Marguerite spotted him first and pulled him inside by the arm. “Let me introduce you. This is Jenny. And this one, well, I don’t think he needs an introduction.”

Theobald looked at the middle-aged woman on the bed and offered a polite greeting. “Hello, Jenny.”

His gaze flickered toward the boy next to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at him.