Beyond the Divorce

Tight Security

I entered the other car, where a refined gentleman awaited. He nodded at me but said nothing. Then, he started the car and drove toward Pleca Park.

My nervousness intensified as the moment of truth neared. I

even intertwined my hands tightly

“Don’t be nervous. Just relax.” The doctor seemed to notice my anxiety and tried to calm me. “Just follow my lead, don’t speak, and cooperate with me.”

When we arrived at Pleca Park, the familiar ornate gate remained closed, just like when I visited two days

ago.

However, the gate slowly opened as our car approached. We entered smoothly, and the gate closed behind us. There was no sign of guards or heightened security at the entrance. Still, I knew the security.

measures were more rigorous than they appeared.

When we reached the house, the doctor instructed, “Stay close and don’t speak. Just relax.”

I nodded, my hands sweaty. When I realized I was getting closer to Atlas, my heart pounded. Soon, the doctor gestured for me to get out of the car. Then he opened the back door, grabbed his medical kit, and confidently approached the house door.

Although I had been here several times, today’s atmosphere felt different. It was eerily quiet, even though more servants were present. On the other hand, my heels clicked and clacked as I walked, which

heightened my nervousness.

For some reason, I felt a headache forming.

This time, we didn’t go upstairs. Instead, we crossed the main hall and proceeded to a wide corridor. We

continued walking until we reached a room at the far end. I noticed several bodyguards standing there.

I guessed they were most likely Celine’s men.

At the entrance, the doctor arrogantly gestured for the guards to open the door.

One of the guards gave me a sharp look. Before he could say anything, the doctor explained, “My

assistant is here to change Mr. Atlas’s bandages.”

My heart tightened at the mention of changing bandages. It meant Atlas’s injuries were severe. I almost broke down and wished to barge into the room. Luckily, I wore a mask–otherwise, I couldn’t hide my

distress. Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

guard scrutinized me once more, and reluctantly opened the door. Immediately after, the doctoried

very private space.

The doctor gestured for me to enter a smaller room, saying, “We don’t have much time, Ms. Chloe. I can

only give you ten minutes.”

I blinked and asked hesitantly, “Aren’t you coming in?”

“No, I secured this time for you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have needed to come here today. Make the most of your time,” the doctor urged me to enter, “Hurry.”

I knew I had just ten minutes. It felt too short to contemplate what to do. As I entered the inner room, I saw Atlas lying on the large bed, surrounded by clinical–looking medical equipment. I might have thought he was asleep if not for those machines.

I rushed to his side, and he appeared to be in a deep slumber. His complexion was slightly pale, and his once impeccably styled hair was slightly messy.

“Atlas…” I whispered his name, but my voice cracked. I reached for his hand, which was still warm, like when he held mine.

I caressed his palm and asked, “Why won’t you wake up? Don’t sleep for so long, okay? I miss you so much. Do you realize how difficult it was for me to come and see you? I thought I saw you yesterday, but you’re here, asleep. I wished that person I saw had been you.”

I placed his hand against my face, and my tears fell into his palm. I choked up, saying, “Atlas… Where are you injured?”

After asking that question, I remembered wanting to check something. Immediately after, I stood up and lifted Atlas’s blanket.