Theo’s chest rose and fell, breath heavy with fury. “You’re the reason she left again.You.Every time, it’s you pushing her away. And now? You don’t deserve to know where she is.”
Theo grabbed Rosie’s hand and stormed off, fury still burning in his eyes.
But Rosie couldn’t stop herself from glancing back.
Adrian’s face had turned frighteningly pale, each passing second draining the color from his skin. He looked sick, like a man running on nothing but sheer will. Like his body was finally giving up on trying to keep him alive.
Then, something made her stop cold.
Adrian suddenly clutched his stomach, his fingers curling into his shirt. The next second, he dropped to the ground—hard.
Unconscious.
The sound of his body hitting the floor was sharp and brutal. Rosie’s eyes widened in shock.
She yanked her hand free from Theo and turned back completely.
“Adrian!” she gasped.
Theo, startled by her sudden halt, turned too, just in time to see Matthew drop to his knees beside Adrian, trying to shake him awake.
But Adrian didn’t respond.
He lay still, unconscious, his chest barely rising.
***
“Doctor?” Matthew rushed to meet the doctor emerging from the operating room. “Is he alright? What’s wrong with him? Has he woken up yet?”
The doctor glanced at Matthew, his expression grim. “Where is his family?” he asked.
“He doesn’t have any family. I’m his secretary. Please, tell me what’s wrong with him. I have the authority to make decisions about his well-being.”
The doctor’s voice lowered. “He is very sick. His stomach is severely inflamed. We had to pump blood from his stomach.”
At that very moment, the hospital room door swung open, and Adrian staggered out. He couldn’t even stand up straight, his hand pressing tightly to his stomach as his legs wobbled beneath him. His chest heaved with the effort to stay upright, his face pale and drawn, eyes bleary with exhaustion.
“We need to go,” he said hoarsely, looking at Matthew. “I have to find Sienna. There’s no time to waste. Come with me. Drive the car. I can’t... I can’t drive.”
His knees buckled mid-step, and he was about to collapse when Matthew rushed forward, catching him just in time.
“Mr. Vaughn,” Matthew’s voice was firm, frustrated. “You can’t go anywhere like this. Look at yourself—you can’t even stand properly!”
Matthew’s grip on Adrian tightened, concern flickering in his eyes. It had been over a week. Adrian hadn’t eaten properly. He barely drank water. Sleep was a rare accident, something that happened when his body finally gave out at a desk or on the cold floor.
All he did was talk about Sienna. Obsessively. Restlessly. She was the only thing that mattered. The obsession was eating him alive, and it was clear he was hanging by a thread, dangerously close to losing control of his own sanity.
But Adrian didn’t listen.
He pushed Matthew away weakly and continued limping down the corridor, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Matthew tried again, "Mr. Vaughn, please. At least stay a few hours. You’re in no condition to leave right now. Your body—"
Before he could take another step, Adrian’s body gave way, crumpling as the pain in his stomach overwhelmed him. He collapsed into one of the cold metal chairs in the hallway, his body giving up, breathing heavily, pain twisting his features.
A doctor rushed over, his expression tight with urgency. “Mr. Vaughn, you need to sit down. You can’t move like this.”
Matthew stepped forward. “What is it, doctor? What’s going on with him?”