Daniel Pierce leaned closer, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. "I truly don't understand. Mr. Vance is an extraordinary man. Why is he so fixated on you? Any other person who had inflicted such an injury would be facing dire consequences by now. Yet, he still shows you favor."

Evelyn heard Daniel's muttered complaints clearly. She felt a pang of helplessness.

He wasn't wrong. Theodore's shoulder injury was her doing.

A wave of guilt washed over her.

She parted her lips to respond, but Daniel abruptly turned and walked away, likely to seek an alternative solution.

Bound by his role as an assistant, he couldn't openly defy his employer's orders. His concern was evident, but there was little else he could do.

Watching Daniel's retreating figure, Evelyn's earlier resolve to maintain distance from Theodore crumbled. She couldn't just leave him.

The seriousness of Theodore's condition pressed heavily on her mind.

After a brief internal struggle, she approached the door and knocked.

The echo of her knock faded. A furious roar erupted from within. "Get out! Stop disturbing me!"

Evelyn steadied her voice. "Theodore, please listen. Let me tend to your injury. Leaving it untreated will only cause more complications."

Silence fell in the room.

A sliver of anxiety pricked at Evelyn.

Had he lost consciousness from blood loss?

Before she could voice her concern, the door was yanked open. A strong hand seized her wrist and pulled her inside.

Evelyn gasped, startled. Her eyes lifted to meet Theodore's pale, intense face.

His grip was like iron, pulling her so close their breaths mingled. Shocked, Evelyn instinctively tried to pull back.

Seeing her resistance, Theodore's expression darkened further. "Trying to run again? Were your words just empty promises?"

Theodore's hospital gown was partially open. Evelyn's hand, braced against him, made contact with his bare chest.

"Release me," Evelyn pleaded, her expression tight with tension.

Theodore held fast, his gaze piercing. "Answer me. Do you intend to honor your word and treat my wound?"

"Of course I do," Evelyn replied, her voice firm and unwavering.

She straightened her posture and focused on the bandaged shoulder. "Your stitches are fresh. The anesthesia hasn't fully worn off. How did you even manage to get out of bed?"

Theodore offered her a faint, smug smile. "I'm not as frail as you seem to believe."

Evelyn ignored his taunt. "Get back into bed. Now. I need to examine the wound."

She had learned that polite requests often fell on deaf ears with him. But a tone of authority sometimes yielded results.

Theodore raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes at her commanding tone. Surprisingly, he released her wrist and complied, settling back onto the bed.

Evelyn gathered the antiseptic and fresh bandages. She stood before him, her movements careful and precise. She gently cleaned the area around the sutures on his shoulder. Then, with a steady hand, she began applying the medicated ointment with a sterile swab.