The call connected. "What do you want?" the man asked.
Darin stared out the car window. "Just checking in on you."
"Do I look like I need your concern?" Max retorted.
"No, I suppose you don't," Darin mused. "You need someone else's concern."
"Spit it out. What exactly do you want?" Max demanded. Judging by his tone, he was clearly in a foul mood.
Darin chuckled. "People with massive tempers tend to age much faster. You aren't exactly a young pup anymore, you know."
Max hung up immediately.
Darin let out a low laugh and typed out a quick text message to Max: Andrea is currently recovering in New York.
Andrea was a woman who had never been denied anything she wanted in her entire life. Growing up in such an environment and then suffering such a massive blow to her ego, it was highly unlikely she would simply accept defeat and stay quiet.
Although Max and Felicia's divorce had not been made public, and only the Ross and Hawthorne families knew the truth, there was no such thing as an impenetrable wall in this world. Someone would inevitably contact Andrea and start whispering in her ear.
After the message was delivered, Max did not reply. Darin did not care. As long as Max knew what to expect, that was enough.
Darin planned to stay in Northwick for a while, conveniently handling his business affairs in the city. He visited the hospital to see Yvonne, who had since been moved to a private VIP ward. The woman resting in the bed was a far cry from the radiant, domineering figure she once was.
Upon seeing Darin, Yvonne remained surprisingly calm. Darin sat quietly in a chair beside the bed, peeling an apple with a paring knife while the nurse carefully fed Yvonne her breakfast. The room was blanketed in heavy silence. Darin methodically sliced the peeled apple into neat pieces and arranged them on a small plate.
"How is Felicia doing these days?" Yvonne suddenly asked, her voice weak and breathless.

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