Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 72

Xena’s grip tightened around her phone.

No wonder Noah threw that chemical at her and she didn’t even flinch—it was all for show, a calculated act to gain sympathy.

She’d gone to such lengths to keep Mr. Harrington around, insisting he stay to help treat her face. Was there something more she was planning to reveal?

“Keep a close eye on Lottie. If anything happens, let me know immediately!”

“Yes, Mrs. Harrington.”

The housekeeper hung up and carried a bowl of warm water into Lottie’s room, her eyes barely masking a flicker of contempt.

A bodyguard, acting as if she owned the place? And now she expected to be waited on?

Resentment simmered beneath the housekeeper’s calm facade, but she dared not let it show—not with Darren standing by the window, silhouetted against the fading daylight, cigarette in hand.

The doctor gently cleaned Charlotte’s face with the warm water, then applied a layer of healing powder. Carefully, he wrapped her face and neck in gauze, leaving only her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears exposed.

It didn’t stop her from making a phone call to Herbert.

“How did you get hurt again?” Herbert’s voice came through the speaker, the concern unmistakable—and clearly audible to Darren by the window.

Darren gave a short, humorless laugh and drew deeply on his cigarette.

Charlotte’s tone was calm. “It’s nothing. I got hurt, but Mr. Harrington’s arranged for someone to treat me. They’ll be able to fix my skin—and while they’re at it, they’ll get rid of the freckles on my face too.”

On the other end, Herbert could tell from her voice that Darren was nearby. He kept his reply cautious: “You should rest up for a while.”

“Oh, and you’ve always wanted to take a vacation, haven’t you? I’ve just finished my latest assignment, so after the nineteenth of May, I’ll take a long break. Let’s go somewhere together.”

Charlotte’s eyes lit up.

There were two crucial clues in what he’d said: the chip integration was complete, and the data transfer was already fifty-nine percent done.

Her voice brimmed with anticipation. “Alright, I’ll look forward to it.”

Darren answered. The room was so quiet that Charlotte could hear the voice on the other end, faint but clear.

“Mr. Harrington, as you instructed, the forensic team retrieved your ex-wife’s ashes for analysis. There’s no calcium—none of the elements you’d expect in human remains.”

Darren’s pupils contracted as he turned to look at Charlotte lying on the bed.

She kept her eyes shut, feigning sleep, but inside, she couldn’t help but think: Darren, the person you hate most is still alive. Disappointed?

He spoke into the phone again, his tone clipped. “Is it possible the explosion burned everything away?”

The reply came quickly. “That only happens in extremely large explosions, like a plane crash. Based on what you described, your ex-wife died in a small-scale blast. It’s highly unlikely.”

Darren’s breath caught in his throat.

Could it be? Was Lottie right all along—had Charlotte never died?