Built His Empire Then Watched It Burn When He Cheated novel Chapter 558

**TITLE: Created 558**
**Chapter 558 I Will Never Approve This**

Anneliese felt an unsettling itch at the back of her mind, a nagging feeling that she had missed a crucial detail. She was so close to revealing the truth, yet it had eluded her grasp like sand slipping through her fingers.

With bated breath, she awaited Jonathan’s reaction, her heart racing in her chest. He, however, averted his eyes, his lips pressed together in a tight, unyielding line that spoke volumes of his internal struggle.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open with a force that startled her. Maisie, flanked by her assistant, entered with an air of authority.

“The patient is stable now, but she’s still extremely weak. Please, do your best not to agitate her again. There’s a sedative in the IV; it should take effect soon,” she informed, her voice steady and professional.

A wave of relief washed over Anneliese at the news that Nishay was safe, and she hurried to express her gratitude.

“Dr. Landis, I truly apologize for disturbing you during the holidays. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart,” she said earnestly, her voice tinged with appreciation.

Maisie cast a fleeting glance at Jonathan before turning back to Anneliese, her demeanor softening into a gentle smile.

“Just part of the job, Mrs. Fullbuster,” she replied, her tone warm but professional.

Anneliese knew that Maisie had charged a fair fee for her services, and it was evident she was committed to providing the best care possible.

Jonathan’s voice broke the momentary silence, a quiet insistence in his tone. “Stay the night.”

Maisie nodded in acknowledgment, while Jessica chimed in, “We have extra guest rooms available. Let me help you get settled.”

With that, Jessica guided Maisie and her assistant out of the room, leaving Anneliese to slip back into the bedroom and approach Nishay’s bedside.

She leaned over, her heart swelling with affection as she took Nishay’s hand in her own. “Grandma…”

Nishay’s eyes fluttered open, revealing a face that appeared pale and fragile. Yet, she didn’t withdraw her hand. Her voice, though hoarse, carried an unmistakable warning.

“Anne, step outside first.”

Anneliese hesitated, glancing back at Jonathan, who had quietly followed her into the room.

Does Grandma want a private moment with Jonathan? But why would that be necessary?

A swirl of confusion and unease gripped her, rooting her to the spot.

Jonathan stepped closer, wrapping an arm around Anneliese’s waist to guide her gently away from the bed. His voice was soft, almost soothing.

“Go on. I’ll stay with Ms. Morris for a while.”

With a reluctant nod, Anneliese stepped out of the room, casting anxious glances back over her shoulder. She closed the door softly but lingered just outside, her heart racing with a sense of foreboding.

Something felt undeniably off about the atmosphere in that room.

Inside, Nishay’s gaze bore into Jonathan with an intensity that belied her frail appearance. Despite the age that clouded her vision, her eyes sparkled with sharp distrust and a watchful vigilance.

“Flattery won’t sway me. I’ll never approve of your relationship.”

“But we’re already together,” he countered, his tone firm yet respectful.

“You!” she exclaimed, choking on her indignation, fury igniting within her. “You destroyed the Claude family. What right do you have to ruin my only granddaughter?”

Her chest heaved with the weight of her emotions, pain stabbing beneath her sternum as memories of loss rushed back.

Jonathan’s frown deepened, concern etched on his features as he feared she might collapse under the strain. He took her delicate hand in his, applying pressure to the acupoints—first on the back of her hand, then along the inner forearm—calming her racing heartbeat and easing her panic.

“If you want to stop us, you need to regain your strength. Lying here won’t change anything,” he urged, his voice steady.

Nishay tried to pull her hand away, but it was futile. Humiliated, she closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her pride crumbling.

He continued with a steady, skilled touch, clearly trained by a professional.

Nishay didn’t want his gentleness; she didn’t even want to meet his gaze.

Yet, beneath his touch, the tightness in her chest began to ease, or perhaps it was merely the sedative finally taking hold.

“Save your breath. I won’t consent. Anne is my granddaughter. I know her best—she’s obedient. She’ll listen to me,” she declared, her voice firm despite the weakness that enveloped her.