He was much lighter than before. Emily gently helped Satan back onto the bed. "You rest for now, I’ll go call the doctor—" "Don’t," Satan grabbed her hand. "I’m fine... I’m not dressed. Don’t call anyone." Emily shook off his hand, her voice firm, "Don’t hold me back. I need the doctor to check on you, to make sure you’re really okay." "I know… Emily, please don’t," Satan pleaded, gripping her hand tightly. "I know my own body. I just need a little rest. Please, don’t go." Seeing the desperation in his eyes, Emily sighed in frustration, unable to pull away. "Just listen to me, alright?" "I’m fine, I know it," Satan reassured her, finally relaxing when she didn’t insist on leaving. He closed his eyes, his face pale and drained of color. Emily was still worried, but she feared that if she pushed too hard, it might make things worse for him. "Emily..." Satan’s voice was weak. "Yeah?" "I want some candy." Emily blinked in surprise. "What?" A man in his thirties asking for candy like a child? "I… have low blood sugar," he admitted. "I haven’t eaten since they took my blood this morning." Realization hit her. "I’ll go get the nurse for some glucose. Hold on!" Emily quickly brought a nurse back with her. They gave Satan a small cup of glucose and hooked him up to a nutritional IV. The nurse glanced at the chart in her hand, "His bloodwork just came back." "Tell me," Emily urged. "Everything looks okay for now. There’s no sign of infection, which means his vocal cords are healing. But Mrs. Norman, has Mr. Norman not been eating properly? His anemia is getting worse, and that’s not good for his body, especially for his vocal recovery."Emily turned and caught Satan’s embarrassed cough as he looked away. Clearly, he hadn’t been eating well. "Thank you. I’ll make sure he eats properly from now on," Emily assured the nurse. The nurse nodded, "With you looking after him, Mr. Norman will get better in no time. I’ll leave you two now, but call if you need anything." "Thank you so much," Emily said as she saw the nurse out. When she returned to the room, Satan had already dressed. His shirt and slacks covered the scars on his body, and he looked like the invincible boss once again. Only the paleness of his face betrayed his weakened state. "What do you feel like eating?" Emily asked. Satan thought about the hospital food and grimaced. He shook his head, "I don’t really want anything." "I’ll cook something for you." "What?" Satan looked at her, surprised. "I said, you have to eat. If you don’t want the hospital food, I’ll cook for you," Emily sighed. "But I’m asking for a raise. Being a designer and a caretaker isn’t part of the deal, and my current salary is too low." Satan’s eyes lit up immediately. "Deal." …… At another hospital... Allen Parker arrived with a carefully prepared meal for his brother, Jackson. The family chef had been cooking for Jackson for years and knew exactly what he liked. The food, still warm in insulated containers, was brought in to help him recover. Allen looked at his bandaged-up brother, lying in bed like a mummy, glaring at everything around him, clearly frustrated. "Alright, stop giving everyone dirty looks. Just eat," Allen said. "I’m not hungry!" Jackson snapped. "Fine, then starve," Allen said nonchalantly, covering the containers and standing up to leave."Wait, you’re really gonna go?" Jackson called after him. Allen chuckled, "You said you weren’t hungry. Why would I stick around? If you’re not eating, I’m not wasting my time. I could be reading over some documents instead of coming here to see you." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Oh please, like you’d be reading anything. You spend your lunch breaks fooling around with that airhead of a secretary. Don’t act like you’re all work." "What did you just say?" "I said you’re always fooling around with that airhead—ow! Why did you hit me? I’m still injured!" "Watch your mouth. Olivia is your sister-in-law." Jackson groaned, "Ugh, are you trying to rub salt in my wounds? Like I’m not miserable enough already?" Allen’s teasing smile faded as he grew serious. "I’ve told you before. Stop driving so recklessly. You’re lucky you made it out of this one." Jackson shrugged, "Come on, I was rear-ended! If I hadn’t been driving fast, I wouldn’t even be here. And you’re still lecturing me?" "I’m telling you this for your own good. It wouldn’t hurt to slow down a bit." "You used to race with me! Now you drive like an old man." "That’s because I have someone to protect. I want to be around to protect her for a long time. So I take better care of myself," Allen said. "You’re thirty now, Jackson. It’s time to grow up." Jackson turned his head away, muttering, "If Emily was sitting in my passenger seat, I’d drive as slow as you do." "Give it up," Allen said bluntly. "What?!" "You and Emily will never be together." Jackson glared at him. "You too? I can’t believe this. Are you my brother or Vincent’s? Whose side are you on?" Allen sighed, exasperated. "Because I’m your brother, I’m telling you to let go. Emily’s a great person, but you’re not right for each other." "I think we’re perfect together.""Does she love you?" Jackson froze. "She... she agreed to be my girlfriend." Allen asked again, "Does she love you?" "Does that even matter?" "Of course it does," Allen replied. "You won’t answer me because deep down, you know the truth. She doesn’t love you, Jackson. She only agreed to be your girlfriend out of guilt for everything that’s happened." Jackson scoffed, "Say what you want. Emily is my girlfriend now. She told me herself that once this project is done, we’ll go back to the UK together." "Let her go." "…" "And let yourself go too," Allen added. "Three years ago, Emily went to the UK with you because she was heartbroken over Vincent. But ask yourself this—if you hadn’t told her that one thing, would she have ever agreed to leave with you?"