Hearing Evelyn's words, Daniel paused momentarily before maintaining his composed demeanor. "Ms. Rossi, Mr. Vance is feeling unwell and has specifically requested your presence."

Evelyn met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "If he's unwell, he should consult a doctor. This is a hospital. He has access to specialists. I am not a physician. Why summon me?"

Daniel faltered, momentarily lost for words.

Seeing his silence, Evelyn sighed, her patience thinning. "Tell Theodore to wait. I will come once I've finished serving my husband his chicken soup."

"Understood," Daniel said stiffly before turning to leave.

Upon returning, he relayed the message to Theodore.

Hearing that Evelyn was busy feeding Alexander chicken soup only fueled Theodore's frustration. His mood soured instantly.

"Why does Alexander get chicken soup?" he seethed.

The question burned in Theodore's mind. He recalled a time in a small fishing village abroad—injured, in pain, waiting for the chicken soup Evelyn had promised him.

The memory was infuriating. Why did he always seem to come second to Alexander?

Sensing his boss's growing agitation, Daniel bowed his head, not daring to speak.

Time stretched on until Evelyn finally arrived, her steps steady. She stopped before him and asked irritably, "What's wrong with you now?"

Theodore exhaled heavily. "My heart..."

"Theodore, if you're not going to speak sensibly, I'm leaving."

Realizing she was serious, Theodore quickly spoke up, his voice tinged with jealousy. "Why does Alexander get chicken soup, and I don't? Have you forgotten that I'm also a patient here?"

Evelyn met his gaze and replied matter-of-factly, "Alexander is my husband, so of course, I take care of him. You, however, have an entire team at your disposal. Can't one of them make you some soup?"

Theodore latched onto one phrase: "Alexander is my husband."

The words stoked the anger simmering in his chest. His jaw tightened, and he snapped, "Evelyn, are you deliberately trying to drive me mad?"

Evelyn offered a measured smile. "You're overthinking this, Theodore. I have no intention of upsetting you. I genuinely hope you recover quickly."

If he recovered sooner, she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

Unfortunately for her, he misinterpreted her words as genuine concern.

The next moment, his mood lifted, and a satisfied smile spread across his face. "Alright. With you taking care of me, I'll be back on my feet in no time."

He wanted Evelyn to see that he was far stronger than Alexander. After an arm injury, Alexander had grown weak.

Theodore, on the other hand, had taken a stab wound to the shoulder, suffered significant blood loss, and endured countless stitches.

Unlike the fragile Alexander, he was built to withstand anything.

Seeing Theodore's mood improve, Evelyn's own demeanor relaxed slightly. She stepped closer and eyed his shoulder. "Was the pain bad last night? The doctor mentioned it might intensify after dark."

At her words, Theodore's expression softened, and his eyes locked onto hers.

He was certain now. She still cared. Otherwise, why would she remember the doctor's exact warning?