Meanwhile, as Logan stepped out of the hospital’s main entrance. He glanced back once more at the tall, glass doors that closed behind him, as if making sure Charlotte was still safe within. He had chosen to remain by her side for as long as he could. The doctors had reassured him that her vitals were steady, and at last, after what seemed like hours, she had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. Her breathing was calm, her features softened, and she finally looked at rest. That was the only reason he allowed himself to leave the sterile walls of the hospital for a moment’s reprieve.He slid his hands into his pockets and drove home. But then, from the corner of his eye, something caught his attention.Not far ahead, under the dim streetlamps, he saw a group of men hauling someone into a dark vehicle. The figure struggled briefly, but the men were forceful, shoving him inside as if he were nothing but cargo. Logan squinted, and his heart nearly stopped when he noticed that it wa

Logan lay sprawled across the floor, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Dust swirled around his body from the impact of his fall, his breath ragged, and his body ached.The men who surrounded him curled their lips into sneers as though savoring his weakness. Their laughter was not just cruel—it was triumphant.The leader of the group, a tall man with eyes that gleamed like sharpened steel, stepped forward.His boots echoed against the wooden floor as he pushed past the others and leaned closer to study the fallen figure. At first glance, the body seemed lifeless, but then he noticed the faint rise of Logan’s chest. His sharp gaze narrowed in irritation.“Idiots!” he barked.His two men stiffened under the weight of his fury. “You stand there, watching him breathe, and yet you do nothing? Do you want him to rise again and tear you apart?”The men exchanged uneasy glances. Neither dared to argue. They had thought Logan finished, a broken body unworthy of further worry. But t

The room was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the wall clock and the rhythmic drip of the IV line beside Charlotte’s bed. Her breathing was soft, almost peaceful, as though she had finally found some escape in sleep after days of turmoil. But the tranquility was broken by the faint creak of the door being pushed open.The sound stirred her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she shifted slightly. Then came a dry cough—rough, persistent—forcing her to sit upright. She coughed into her palm, breath ragged, until the fit subsided. When she looked up, the nurse was already by her bedside, clad in her crisp uniform, her face calm but her eyes carrying a sharpness that Charlotte didn’t quite understand.“Miss,” the nurse said softly, almost soothingly. “You need to turn on your side. I have to give you an injection.”Charlotte froze, blinking in confusion. “Injection?” Her voice was hoarse from the coughing. “But… since I’ve been admitted, no one’s given me injections. Just drips, ban

The following day was the day Charlotte was to finally leave the hospital. After what had felt like an eternity within its white-walled confines, she would be discharged by evening. The thought alone filled her with hope. She missed the comfort of her own space, her family, Elysian Bloom, the freedom to move about without constant monitoring, and the possibility of beginning life again without the smell of antiseptics trailing her every breath.The morning sunlight poured softly through the window, painting golden streaks across her bed.Charlotte had just finished having her bath when the door creaked open and Logan stepped in. His presence immediately lifted her spirits. He looked sharp as always and his confident stride filled the room with quiet authority. His face softened the moment his eyes met hers.“Good morning, Charlotte,” Logan said warmly, setting down a small bag he carried. “I heard today’s the big day. Finally, you’ll be well enough to leave here.”Charlotte smi

Outside the hospital room, the nurse who had been paid to get rid of Charlotte, could see through the small glass window in the door. She witnessed Charlotte’s sudden collapse into violent coughs, the blood splattering against the stark white sheets. Instead of rushing in with alarm, the nurse’s lips curved into a pleased smirk.So, it had begun.She turned away calmly, walking to the far end of the corridor where she pulled out her phone. Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, she dialed a number she had memorized by heart.The line clicked.“She’s started,” the nurse whispered, her voice low but sharp with satisfaction. “Miss Sullivan is coughing blood. She’s breaking down fast—on the verge of death.”On the other end, Melissa’s voice came alive with a chilling sense of delight. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. You’ve done well.”The nurse allowed herself a quiet chuckle. “You don’t need to worry. I didn’t miss a thing when I placed the substance into her food. It’