Estelle didn’t remember falling asleep. But she remembered the moment she lost control. And when she opened her eyes, she knew instantly, this wasn’t a hospital she had chosen.

The soft hum of the machines attached to her, and the faint scent of antiseptic, clung to the air, making the space feel sterile and sealed off. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Her mind wouldn’t stop working. Every thought circled back to the same question. Where am I?

She listened, every one of her senses heightened, straining past the silence, hoping for something. A voice. A distant sound. Anything that might give her a clue.

But she got nothing, just the quiet.

Then she turned sharply, freezing. The sound of footsteps filled the air. Faint at first, then clearer.

Her eyes snapped to the door, her pulse quickening beneath her skin. Her fingers tightened slightly against the sheets as she held her breath, waiting. Hoping.

Please, let it be him.

The handle turned, and the door creaked open.

Her heart began to pound harder as she lifted her head slightly, her neck straining despite the discomfort, and then Vance stepped in.

The hope drained as quickly as it had come.

He held the door open as Magnus followed, with another man behind him.

Estelle sank back into the pillow, the movement small but heavy with disappointment. Still, her expression smoothed out, carefully controlled.

Magnus approached her bedside, his presence filling the space. He pulled the chair closer and sat, the soft scrape of its legs against the floor breaking the quiet.

Then he reached out, his fingers brushed through her hair.

Estelle flinched, harder than she meant to. Not pain. Not fear. Something closer to revulsion. The reaction was immediate, sharp, instinctive, as if his touch burned.

"How are you doing, Estelle?" Magnus asked, his voice gentle, awkwardly gentle. "Please tell me you’re feeling better."

She looked at him, her brows knitting together as confusion crept in.

Who was this man? Because this was not Magnus. Not the one she knew. Unless he was pretending. But why?

Her thoughts churned as her gaze shifted past him, landing on the man standing nearby. Her eyes lingered there, questioning, wary.

Magnus followed her line of sight. "That’s the physiotherapist we hired," he said smoothly.

The man stepped forward, offering a warm, practiced smile as he stopped beside her bed. "I’m Noah," he said. "Your physiotherapist. How are you feeling after the surgery?"

Estelle didn’t smile back. Her gaze remained guarded, her expression tight with quiet suspicion. Trust wasn’t something she could afford, not here, not with Magnus standing this close.

"I feel sore," she said simply, her voice flat.

Noah nodded, his expression softening slightly. He reached down and gently lifted the sheets covering her legs, carefully. His hands moved with quiet professionalism as he assessed her condition.

After a moment, he lowered the sheets again, tucking them back into place. Then he turned toward Magnus.

"I’d like to examine her properly," he said. "If you don’t mind, I’ll need some privacy with my patient."

A beat of silence followed.

Then, Vance stepped forward, a frown pulling at his features. "That won’t be necessary," he said. "Whatever you need to do—"

Magnus lifted a hand, cutting Vance off mid-sentence. "Please," he said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Go ahead. We’ll wait outside."

He turned back to Estelle, a smile settling on his lips, gentle on the surface, but something colder sat beneath it. "I’m sure we’ll hear some positive news, fingers crossed," he added.

Then he leaned closer, too close that his breath brushed faintly against her ear as his voice dropped, quiet enough that only she could hear.

"Don’t get any silly ideas," he murmured. "Or this will be the last time you see him or any other professional here."

A chill slid down Estelle’s spine. Her fingers tightened against the sheets, but she didn’t speak. Didn’t react beyond the slight stiffening of her body as he pulled away.

Magnus straightened, already turning toward the door, and Vance followed without a word.

The door opened, then shut with a soft, final click, and silence rushed back in.

Noah remained where he was for a second, his eyes lingering on the door as if weighing something.

"You said physiotherapist," she said quietly. "Which hospital sent you?"

Noah hesitated, and that was enough.

Her hand shot out, gripping his arm. Firm. Urgent. "You have to help me."

His gaze snapped towards it.

Estelle. Her eyes were wide now, no longer guarded, just desperate.

"You have to help me," she said, her voice low but trembling at the edges. "Please, tell me where I am. And help me get out of here."

Noah froze, confusion flashing across his face as he looked at her properly this time. "This isn’t," he started, then stopped, his brows pulling together.

Something wasn’t adding up.

—

Outside the room, the corridor felt quieter, cooler.

Vance stood beside Magnus, his attention fixed on the glow of his phone screen. His thumb hovered as he reread the message, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips.

"He took it," Vance murmured. "Exactly as expected."

Magnus’s head snapped toward him. "And what exactly is so amusing?" he asked, a faint edge creeping into his voice.

Vance straightened immediately, masking the slip. He angled the phone toward Magnus. "Roman took the bait," he said simply. "And he revealed their plans."

Magnus took the phone. His eyes moved across the screen, slow, deliberate. As he read, the ease in his expression disappeared. His jaw tightened, a faint muscle ticking.

"They want to take me down," he said at last, the words laced with dry amusement. "Funny." He handed the phone back, though his gaze remained distant, fixed on something unseen.

"If that’s their plan," he continued quietly, "then it’s game on." A pause. "Let’s see who’s more powerful."

Vance’s smile returned, sharper this time. "If only they had stayed in their place," he said, shaking his head lightly. "Now they’ll have to deal with the consequences."

Magnus gave a small nod, his expression hardening. "It’s time to twist the knife," he said. "Separate them completely. They can’t be together anymore, their connection has outlived its usefulness."

Vance frowned slightly, already thinking ahead. "What do you need me to do, sir?"

Magnus didn’t answer immediately. He stood still, his eyes darkening as his thoughts turned, calculating, precise.

Then—

"Reply to the email," Magnus said.

Vance nodded. "What should I tell him?"

Magnus’s gaze darkened. "Whatever it takes to break them," he said quietly. "Then makes sure she gets his reply."