The Ex-Wife's Triumph novel Chapter 202

Seeing the message, Peter dialed immediately, his voice thick with anxiety the moment the call connected. "What happened? Did it hit anything vital?"

Phil stared at Kingsley's paling lips in the rearview mirror, his heart in his throat—if the bleeding didn't stop, shock was inevitable. He didn't speak, just floored the accelerator, the engine roaring in protest.

"If it hit something vital, would I be talking to you right now?" Kingsley frowned, his voice strained with suppressed pain but remaining icy and hard. "It's the arm. Whoever did this, find them."

"You've been making big moves these past few months; you probably stepped on someone's toes," Peter said, his voice dropping. "Don't worry about this part. I'll handle it. I'll come to the hospital later."

A drive that usually took thirty minutes was crushed into fifteen by Phil's aggressive driving. As soon as the car stopped, medical staff waiting at the entrance swarmed them, the wheels of the gurney screeching urgently against the pavement.

The lights in the operating room went out after forty minutes.

Kingsley was awake when he was wheeled out. His left arm was numb from the anesthesia, hanging uselessly at his side, while an IV in his hand slowly dripped fluids into his veins.

When Peter arrived, he ran into a nurse coming out of the ward. He pulled up a chair and sat by the bed, sounding relieved. "Luckily it was just the arm. It looks like they didn't intend to kill, more like a warning."

Kingsley lifted his eyelids, his gaze landing on Peter. He didn't respond to the comment, only asked, "You haven't found the person yet?"

"Bro, tracking leads takes time. It can't happen that fast." Just as Peter tried to explain further, the door was pushed open and Xavier walked in briskly. He stared at Kingsley's heavily bandaged arm, his face draining of color. His Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke, his voice heavy with guilt: "Mr. Sherwood, it was my failure. I didn't protect you... I'm sorry."

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