All along the way, Winona turned more than a few heads.
"Wow, those flowers she's carrying are gorgeous."
"It's not just the flowers—she's beautiful, too. There's something about her and the bouquet that makes both stand out even more."
"She's got this calm, intelligent beauty about her."
"She looks a little older than your typical girl—like a sophisticated woman. Graceful, serene… she just gives off that effortlessly comfortable vibe."
And all she did was carry a bouquet.
Winona was a little surprised. From the hospital entrance to here, she'd been showered with compliments by strangers.
Was it the flowers? Or had her spirits improved lately?
As she reached Yves Prescott's hospital room, she saw him staring, momentarily stunned.
In Greenwood City, if every woman waiting to bring Yves Prescott flowers joined hands, they could circle the city twice. Yet he had never actually looked any of them in the eye.
Now, here she was—standing at his door, bouquet in hand. Calm, unruffled, her expression steady, but with an undeniable presence that drew him in.
Yves blinked in disbelief. "Are those for me?"
"What do you think?" Winona grinned.
Her smile was even brighter than the flowers.
For a moment, Yves just stared, caught off guard.
Her warmth seemed to soften his features. The man known for his sharp, almost dangerous looks suddenly appeared approachable, even gentle.
Zachary, standing in the hallway, couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd never witnessed this side of Yves Prescott.
Yves kept his gaze on Winona, saying nothing. His thoughts drifted to his family, to the battles and betrayals he'd weathered. For years, he'd lived with nerves stretched taut, his heart hardened by necessity.
He'd survived a brutal environment, where kindness was a luxury few could afford.
But now, everything felt different.


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