Belated Moonlight: He Regretted Only After I Left-Chapter 144: Cleaning House (Bonus - )

Shane Donovan stared at her; he didn’t admit it or deny it, he just locked his gaze onto her, as if he wanted to draw her in, crush her, and blend her into his very being.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse: "When I’m not here, he gets quite attentive."

"Shane," Stella Sterling moved closer on her own, cupping his face in her hands, her eyes sparkling with a gentle smile, "He’s your brother, how could you even be jealous of him?"

Shane looked at her silently for a few seconds, then suddenly lowered his head and kissed her lips.

The kiss was domineering, leaving no room for refusal, with a trace of impatience and unease that was hard to detect.

No one knew her better than he did...

He wished he could hide her away...

So that no one else could lay eyes on her...

He sucked on her lips, his tongue prying open her teeth, deepening and entangling in a way that felt almost plundering.

Stella was caught off guard by his kiss, letting out a muffled whimper, her hands instinctively pushing against his chest, yet afraid of touching his wound, not daring to use force.

"Mm... your injury..." she protested vaguely.

Shane withdrew slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his hot breath spraying across her face. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"It’s fine, don’t worry about it..." his voice was low and hoarse, still tinged with lingering passion.

As he moved, he carefully avoided his injured arm but didn’t lose any of his aggression.

Amidst the chaos of emotions, Stella heard him breathing and whispering in her ear:

"Call me husband."

"..."

"Forgot what I taught you before?"

"..."

Stella’s cheeks flushed crimson, glaring at him in a fit of shame and annoyance, but when her gaze met his deep, smiling eyes, her heart skipped more than a beat.

——He’s just so brazen!

...

And at that time, Rhys Lennox almost fled the hospital.

He got into his car, the engine roared impatiently, and the vehicle shot forward, merging into traffic.

He drove fast, the scenery outside the window sped past, blurring into a shadowy smear.

But no matter how fast he drove, that face in his mind remained ever clear.

He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel, the harsh blare of the horn pierced through the air, drawing disapproving glances and flashing lights from surrounding cars.

"Damn it!"

He cursed under his breath, his chest heaving intensely, his eyes churning with a thick and indelible gloom.

He couldn’t stay any longer.

Watching them, watching her in someone else’s arms.

Every second was torture.

A thought budded and spread like wildfire—he shouldn’t have returned to the country in the first place!

He pulled out his phone, dialing a number with almost no hesitation.

"Ryan Gable, book me a flight abroad, the sooner the better."

"Ah, Finn, where are you heading?"

"Anywhere."

He hung up, threw the phone onto the passenger seat, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his eyes empty and cold.

Some thoughts should be snuffed out completely.

Some emotions should be buried forever.

He, Rhys Lennox, knew when to hold on and when to let go.

But why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in his chest, allowing the cold wind to howl through, leaving it empty and aching?

...

Shane Donovan stayed in the hospital for only three days.

On the afternoon of the third day, he removed the IV needle and changed into a suit.

Dark gray, expertly tailored, it concealed the heavy bandages on his arm and masked a hint of his sickliness, leaving only the lean, stern look on his face.

When Stella pushed the door open, he was adjusting his cuffs in the dressing mirror included in the hospital room.

"You..."

"Discharged." Shane didn’t turn around, watching her through the mirror, his words succinct and to the point.

Stella frowned slightly, "The doctor said you need observation for at least a week, you..."

Shane turned to face her, his complexion still a bit paler than usual, his lips faint in color, but his eyes had regained their usual deep calm, perhaps even sharper.

"I’m fine." He raised his hand, his fingers brushing lightly across the furrow between her brows, his lips curving into a slight smile, softening his voice significantly, "There are things that can’t be dealt with in a hospital."

Stella naturally knew what he meant, but she still felt a bit worried.

"Don’t worry..." Seeming to know what she was about to say, Shane chuckled softly, reversing his grip to hold her fingers, squeezing them in his palm, "They’ve been bouncing around for long enough; would you like to come with me?"

Stella was taken aback, "Where to?"

"Back to the company," he said as he led her out by the hand, "to clean house."

Shane didn’t give advance notice; the black Bentley drove directly into the underground parking lot.

The executive elevator went straight to the top floor.

Meanwhile, in the conference room on the top floor, Philip Donovan was seated at the head of the table, fervently leading what he called a ’strategic meeting.’

Beatrice Donovan was chiming in occasionally, an irrepressible self-satisfaction on her face.

The door was pushed open.

Shane walked in, the dark gray suit making his complexion appear a bit pale, but his gaze was as sharp as a hawk, sweeping across the room before settling on the head of the table.

The conference room fell into instant silence.

The color drained from Philip’s face, the documents in his hand slipping to the floor.

Beatrice shot to her feet, the legs of her chair screeching against the floor, her face full of shock.

"You... Shane? Why... why are you here..." Philip stammered.

Shane ignored him, walking up to the head of the table and stopping, his gaze calmly resting on Philip.

One look.

Philip seemed to be scalded, scrambling away from the seat almost on all fours, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Shane sat down, draping one arm over the armrest, his fingers tapping lightly.

"Continue." He spoke, his voice not loud, yet it echoed clearly through every corner.

No one dared to speak.

He slightly turned his head, looking at the dumbfounded CFO beside him: "Last quarter’s clinical trial data for North America, report it."

The director jolted, hurriedly sifting through the papers, stammering as he began to read.

Shane listened, occasionally interrupting, his questions precise and challenging, zeroing in on the core issues.

The department heads he called upon were all drenched in cold sweat, their answers riddled with flaws.

He didn’t even need to get angry; just sitting there, occasionally glancing up, and the intangible pressure laid bare those who had clandestinely undermined Philip or secretly pledged allegiance, leaving them exposed and defenseless.

In less than half an hour, Shane had nearly untangled all the issues and deliberate oversights that had piled up at Innovatech Bio over the past period.

Philip and Beatrice stood stiffly beside him, their faces alternating between red and white.

Only then did they realize that even though Shane had been absent for so long, his control over Innovatech was deeply rooted in every data and process, far beyond their capability to shake.

All it took was a single word for him to reclaim control.

"It seems," Shane remarked after the last report, tapping his fingertips on the table, his tone indifferent, "the company has ’achieved remarkable results’ during my absence."

He looked up at Philip, whose face was ash-grey: "Uncle, you’ve worked hard. From now on, you can take a rest."

He then turned to Beatrice: "The same goes for you, Aunt."

With an understated manner, he executed the takeover succinctly.

Absolute control required no raised voice, yet left those around him in disarray.

Philip’s face was ashen; his expression filled with unwillingness, he gritted his teeth before finally forcing a smile, "Shane... I found an outstanding legal advisor, far superior to Elias Peyton, fully capable of being Innovatech’s legal consultant."

Shane lifted his gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth, waiting for him to continue.

"His name is..." Philip took a deep breath and uttered the name:

"Jasper Hawthorne."

As his words fell, the conference room became pin-drop silent.

Stella’s fingertips subtly curled, instinctively glancing at Shane...