His Wife Calls The Shots
Chapter 1716: Final - : Grand Finale

Chapter 1716: Final Chapter: Grand Finale

He had looked forward to this moment for countless days and nights, and now, the person he was waiting for was inside.

But he was afraid.

He feared that Joy Taylor hated him, and that she did not want to see him.

At that time, someone came out from inside.

It was Chloe Collins.

His face flushed with panic, he asked softly, "How, how is she?"

Chloe answered indifferently, "She’s okay."

"What do you mean okay? Is she injured?"

"Yes."

Tristan Collins’s face turned pale, "Where, where is she injured? Is it serious? Ah?"

Chloe frowned, and after a while, she said, "Go in and see for yourself."

She did not linger, stepping to the side and walking out.

Just now, Alexander Foster had called; their operation had gone smoothly.

Theodore Collins was now returning with them and would arrive this afternoon.

Robert Foster, on the other hand, remained there, continuing the rest of the rescue work with the troops.

The military forces of Grearon had successfully reclaimed a city by now, driving back the army of the Mutated People and confining them to a small town.

Upon hearing this news, Wanda Wesley had left immediately, insisting on finding Robert Foster, and no one could stop her.

Chloe understood her feelings; she had experienced those emotions herself and naturally wouldn’t impede her too much.

Now, Chloe had a very important matter that she needed to confirm.

Reaching a quiet place, she took out her phone and called Liam Locke.

On the other side.

The hospital ward was unusually quiet, not like the atmosphere when two people were present.

Tristan Collins sat on the side, his hands and feet occasionally making slight movements, his expression stiff. A man in his forties or fifties, he showed the same unease and nervousness as a young man meeting his mother-in-law for the first time.

His usually sharp eyes had softened and even seemed humble, unable to bear blinking too much, greedily staring at the woman on the bed, his cloudy whites filled with red veins, tinged in faint red.

Those who knew him understood he was a man who hated tears the most, and they wouldn’t believe that this man’s eyes could also be filled with a thin layer of mist.

Although the woman on the bed had a poor complexion, pale and sickly, it couldn’t conceal the stunning beauty of her features, which revealed that she must have been a breath-taking beauty when she was young.

She slept quietly, breathing evenly.

After a long time, she finally stirred; her eyelashes trembled slightly, as if a thin string tied around his heart was yanked hard, making him tense.

He suddenly stood up, and in an instant, his eyes met Joy Taylor’s bewildered gaze.

For a moment, he was at a loss, while she shifted from puzzled to calm.

"Joy," he called softly, his usual commanding tone a notch lower than hers.

Only in front of her would he reveal such vulnerability.

Yet she calmly moved her gaze away, silence.

Her eyes, clear, deep, wise, and composed, showed she was a smart and brilliant woman.

Faced with this situation, he suddenly didn’t know what to say. It was strange, how when you are apart, you think of her day and night, but once you’re face-to-face, you become mute, at a loss for words.

Driven by his desire, he reached out with a trembling hand, wanting to hold hers.

Just as he was about to touch her, a feeble yet forceful voice came through: "Where is Theodore?"

His hand receded in panic, his face flushed with turmoil, "I... Alexander has gone to rescue them, they will be alright, they’ll come back safely."

She looked at him with eyes full of blame, "That’s your son, and you don’t even care to know his situation?"

Tristan Collins lowered his head, heavy with grief, nodding, "I’m sorry, I was negligent."

"Leave now, let Chloe come in."

His heart twitched with pain, "I know you blame me, hate me, it’s what I deserve, I did make a mistake in the past..."

Joy Taylor closed her eyes, her hand shielding them, dispassionately, "Leave."

Seeing that her mood wasn’t good, Tristan Collins said with heartache, "Alright, I’ll leave now. You rest well, I’ll be waiting outside for you."

With a bang, the door of the hospital ward suddenly "opened itself."

Tristan Collins was startled for a moment, only to see her hand pointing towards the door, then slowly falling.

It seemed that she was the one controlling it.

He wasn’t too surprised, for he had seen this ability in Chloe before.

Before coming, he knew he would be driven out, unwelcome, yet he still tasted the wrenching pain of rejection.

Exiting the hospital ward, he intended to bring Chloe back but saw a woman with swollen eyes from crying standing by the door.

Rosalind Taylor.

"What are you doing here?!" he asked with a frosty countenance.

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