Chapter 653

She closed her eyes.

She only hoped the blood would flow faster.

Even faster.

That way, she could find release sooner.

The waiting was the most torturous part.

But her wish was dashed once again.

The door was kicked open.

Oliver Winston rushed in with several bodyguards.

His eyes immediately landed on Vivian Bennett lying on the floor.

The light-colored fabric over her abdomen was soaked a deep crimson.

A pool of blood spread beside her.

A horrifying sight.

He froze in shock, rooted to the spot.

He couldn't understand why the assailant was now the one clinging to life.

He rushed over.

He didn't dare move her recklessly.

He could only carefully straighten her limbs.

For someone gravely injured, secondary harm was the greatest fear.

Vivian's eyes were still open.

"Was it a gunshot?" he asked urgently.

"No..."

Vivian spoke with difficulty.

Her voice was faint.

Laced with a trace of disappointment.

She wouldn't die this time either.

How ironic.

Just more suffering.

"I'm taking you to the hospital. Hold on."

Oliver didn't ask further.

He instructed one bodyguard to stay and rescue Isabella Sullivan.

He gently lifted Vivian.

And hurried out.

Into the car.

He called emergency services.

The driver slammed the accelerator.

Every minute counted.

Her breathing grew weaker.

Oliver's heart tightened.

The injuries were too severe.

At a time like this, he absolutely couldn't let her lose consciousness.

If she passed out, she might never wake up.

He had to keep her alert.

"You're hurt this badly. Why didn't you tell Liam?"

He tried to engage her in conversation.

"If he knew, he would never have left you."

He understood this couple less and less.

Their love was so bitter.

Yet misunderstandings piled layer upon layer.

Why didn't Vivian speak up?

If she had, Liam Sullivan would definitely have stayed.

The light in Vivian's eyes gradually dimmed.

She said softly, "I did tell him..."

"But he still left."

Oliver was left speechless.

He could only offer weak comfort. "He probably thought Luna Clark was more seriously injured... If he knew you were like this, he would never have gone."

"You have to believe that."

This was the only way he could give her a shred of will to live.

But her attitude toward life and death was too detached.

Detached as if it no longer mattered.

"Don't comfort me..."

Every word Vivian spoke felt like tearing her lungs apart.

Yet a powerful urge to confide surged within her.

"I'm used to it..."

"Every time the pain is worst, I'm left behind..."

"After it happens enough times, it doesn't hurt anymore."

"See, right now... I don't feel any pain at all."

Something clogged Oliver's heart.

An indescribable ache.

Words were meaningless to someone whose heart had died.

She had just barely emerged from the agony of losing her child.

Now her heart was dying again.

How many times can a person's heart die?

And how many times can it be revived?

They met the ambulance halfway.

Medical personnel swiftly transferred her.

Sirens pierced the sky.

Racing toward the hospital.

The same hospital.

On the seventh floor, an operating room light was on.

Liam had been waiting outside since he sent Luna Clark in.

And on the eighth floor, in another operating room.

A critically injured woman was being wheeled in at that moment.

Doctors and nurses were all in position.

Machines beeped.

A race against time.

Oliver watched Vivian being pushed inside.

Several of the hospital's top specialists had rushed over.

His expression darkened.

He didn't know the specifics of Vivian's injuries.

But with so many senior doctors gathering.

The situation was likely extremely critical.

Just before entering, a doctor had patted his shoulder.

Telling him to prepare himself.

Oliver stood in the corridor.

The lights were stark white.

Casting an icy chill over his heart.