Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 1074 Chapter 1075: Carsen's eyes flicked to the MRI scan above the table as he said, "Get the hemostatic forceps ready. The tumor sits on the right frontal lobe, measuring about 0.5 inches. The incision will stretch 1.2 inches across the left frontal bone." At that moment, the procedure moved from preparation into action. Holding her breath, Maia locked onto his every movement, determined to etch the process into her memory.

The blade opened the skin, bleeding was controlled, the periosteum lifted, and the drill carved through bone-the rhythm of surgery unfolded with deliberate order. As the minutes passed, she sensed Carsen's sharp concentration and firm resolve. For the first time, she fully grasped why he demanded such relentless standards. This wasn't routine-it was a battle for a life. Every decision in the operating room demanded precision, with no tolerance for mistakes. A faint tremor ran through Maia's injured hand, and she quickly tightened her fist to steady it.

Far from the hospital, inside Elysium Apartments, Chris lingered at the dining table while casting occasional glances toward the pot gently bubbling on the stove. The dish was meant as a nutritious meal for Ethan and Marisa, following Maia's careful instructions. His phone buzzed suddenly across the table. Lifting it, he skimmed over the message sent by his men stationed in the bar's basement. "Boss, Tyrant bit his tongue and ended his own life." Chris's eyes darkened, and his fingers flexed against the phone as he absorbed the words. A short pause passed before he typed his reply.

"Leave Tyrant's corpse near the Nelson residence." That single command carried a meaningful warning. It was a silent but unmistakable threat aimed at Faceless. Chris muttered to himself, "There are people you never dare cross, and Maia belongs to that list-because she's mine." Chris pushed back his chair and headed for the kitchen, lifting the lid from the simmering pot. The steam carried a soothing aroma of herbs mingled with rich flavors that quickly filled the room. After scooping a taste, he let out a quiet laugh. "Brilliant woman.

Who would have thought she could turn food into medicine that strengthens the body?" Faithful to Maia's word, Chris ensured that Ethan and Marisa received the nutritious meals while they were in the hospital. Even as he kept up this routine, a question kept nagging at him. On Twitter, Ethan-using the handle "Winters"-often sounded warm and even a bit admiring in his posts. Face-to-face, though, Ethan treated him with a cold indifference. Could this contrast be intentional? Was it Ethan's way of helping him and Maia keep their marriage hidden from the public eye?

Ethan might want people to think that if even Maia's brother treated him badly, there was no way he would be Maia's husband. The idea amused Chris, and a faint smile touched his lips. "Smart boy." He decided to play along with Ethan, keeping a distance in others' presence. Eight hours slipped by, and dusk wrapped the Nelson estate in a tense, brooding calm. Beside Austen, Rosanna slept soundly, her presence a stark contrast to the heaviness settling over him. Rising quietly, he pulled on his clothes and left the bedroom without a backward glance. . . .