Chapter 2 Resurface

Inside the hospital's bustling entrance, Emilia strode through with her suitcase in hand.

Once she'd left the Mitchell estate, Emilia made straight for the hospital the moment she learned her bestie, Sloane Stewart, had been admitted.

She barely reached the hallway when Rodger's little brother, Sebastian Mitchell, blocked her path.

Sebastian had always gone out of his way to sneer at her, finding every opportunity to take jabs.

"You've got some nerve showing your face around here!" Sebastian snapped, his glare brimming with anger. "Violet nearly died because of you!"

Emilia's expression didn't waver. "What happens to Violet is none of my concern," she said, her voice colder than steel. "Now step aside."

"Why would I? You came here to cause more trouble, didn't you?" Sebastian shot back, annoyance twisting his features.

"I'm giving you one last chance. Move out of my way," said Emilia, her gaze hardening with a dangerous edge.

Sebastian squared his shoulders, refusing to give an inch. "I'm not budging!"

Without another word, Emilia seized his arm and flipped him flat onto the floor, moving with unexpected force.

A heavy thud filled the hallway, followed by Sebastian's groan of pain. He hardly had a chance to process what happened.

Without looking back, Emilia stepped right over Sebastian, ignoring him as he writhed on the floor.

From behind, Sebastian's voice, twisted with rage, rang out. "Emilia! You'll regret this!"

Elsewhere in the corridor.

"Well, would you look at that!" Wilbur Collins let out a whistle, his eyes wide with surprise. "When did Mrs. Mitchell become such a force to be reckoned with? I always thought she was sweet and quiet. Guess she fooled all of us."

Elias Dixon's gaze stayed fixed on Emilia, his expression unreadable. His cool stare tracked her every move. There was something about her boldness and swiftness that had caught his eye.

"You're still staring, Elias? Don't tell me you've got an interest in her," Wilbur teased with a sly grin.

Seated in his wheelchair, Elias kept his gaze cool. His slender fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his thigh.

Several years ago, an orchestrated ambush had nearly stole his life, leaving him broken after the crash. Although the accident hadn't killed him, Elias would never walk again.

Without a miracle from Asclepius, he faced a lifetime tied to this wheelchair.

Every time he recalled how his search had led straight to Inferno- the infamous assassin syndicate-a cold, ruthless spark ignited behind his narrowed gaze. There was no doubt in his mind. The leader-Lord Inferno-himself had a hand in this mess.

"Any updates on Asclepius?" asked Elias.

Wilbur's usual smirk faded as soon as the words left Elias's lips, his expression turning grave. "Tracking down Asclepius is like chasing a shadow. He vanished completely four years ago. No trace, no leads. If you ask me, finding him now is almost impossible..."

Wilbur let his eyes drift down to Elias's motionless legs, concern creasing his brow.

The only person capable of curing Elias was that arrogant physician, the one who dared call himself Asclepius.

A shadow passed over Elias's features, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's go."

All hope had been drained from him, replaced by reluctant acceptance. Life in a wheelchair would be his new reality.

Wilbur's hand was just reaching for the wheelchair's grip when his phone went off.

"Yeah, what is it?" He answered, trying to sound casual.

As the words came through the line, his expression transformed-shock, then disbelief, then something close to excitement.

Once he ended the call, Wilbur turned to Elias, a playful spark in his eyes. "So, I've got two pieces of news. You want the good one or the bad one first?"

Elias stared straight ahead, lips set in a hard line. He looked completely uninterested.

Wilbur groaned, throwing him a look of mock defeat. "You could at least pretend to care."

"I don't care about either," Elias replied, voice flat and cold.

"Are you sure?" Wilbur's grin widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Lowering his voice, he leaned and whispered, "Asclepius just resurfaced."

For a split second, time stood still. A jolt of disbelief hit Elias. His hands balled into fists, tension written all over him.

He had already accepted that hope was gone, and no one could have foreseen a twist like this.