In the hushed confines of a private hospital, Eleanor gingerly settled into a chair within the doctor's office. A stern-faced female physician stood across from her, diligently explaining something that seemed to elude Eleanor's grasp."There is no way, I am pregnant," she insisted."But you told me that your period had stopped, and you also honestly admitted that you had slept with someone," the female doctor patiently replied.“I did… but… but…”Over the past few days, an overwhelming lethargy and occasional waves of nausea have seized her, sparking worry that her illness has resurfaced. To spare Drake from undue worry, she had opted to face this alone."Your symptoms are indicative of a possible pregnancy. That's why I recommend getting an ultrasound. However, I understand the cost concerns here, so I'll write you a referral. You can avail yourself of a free ultrasound at the public hospital," the doctor gently suggested, her pen gliding over the referral note. Her eyes momentarily
Eleanor sat there, torn between the weight of her emotions and the gravity of the decision ahead. Drake's unexpected reaction had thrown her for a loop, and his words lingered in the air, "It's your body. You decide if you will keep it or let it go."The room fell into an uneasy silence as Eleanor grappled with the complexity of her situation. Lucille, sensing the need for support, gently placed a comforting hand on Eleanor's shoulder."Ely," Lucille began, her voice soft, "this is a decision only you can make. It's important to consider what's best for you, emotionally, physically, and mentally."Eleanor nodded, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. The trauma of that night with Zack, the fear of disappointing her brother, and the overwhelming prospect of motherhood weighed heavily on her shoulders.Drake, breaking the silence, spoke with a sincerity that cut through the tension in the room. "I want you to know, Eleanor, that whatever decision you make, I'm here for you. We'll
Director Marianne paced anxiously back and forth in her dimly lit office, her worry intensifying with each passing moment as she awaited Drake's call."It's already midnight. Why isn't he contacting me?" she grumbled, repeatedly checking her phone as she continued to pace. The events at BellRox over the past day have been extreme, leaving Marianne on edge about Drake's well-being."Felicia Mendez died in a strange manner, and an unknown gunman targeted Drake's office. What kind of dangerous trouble is he in? And why isn't he telling me anything? Don't tell me he's dead too?"Despite her desperate desire to know Drake's current situation, she hesitated to call him, unwilling to appear overly concerned. She still had her pride to maintain, even after he had rejected her feelings."Come on! Call me!" she exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice. "Ah!"She nearly dropped her phone when, all of a sudden, Drake's caller ID appeared on her screen. Clearing her throat, she composed herself
Eleanor's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze darting between Drake and the hotel director. "Royal Eleanor Hotel?" she echoed, her voice a blend of surprise and awe. Drake nodded, savoring the moment. "Yes, Ely. I wanted you to have a place where you can stay comfortably during these times, and this is it." Lucille, still grappling with the information, managed to stammer, "You... you named a hotel after her?" Drake chuckled. "Not just any hotel. This is a special place, a sanctuary for us. No harm will come to you here." “When did you prepare this?” Eleanor asked, her astonishment palpable. “Hmm, around a month ago. This was intended for your birthday, but circumstances required it now,” he replied, a hint of regret in his voice. “Where did you get the money for this?” Eleanor asked, her disbelief lingering as she tried to fathom the luxurious reality unfolding before her eyes. “My investments have been fruitful, Ely. You just have to trust me, and you'll live a carefree life,”
Drake's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Natasha Ling. She bore an uncanny resemblance to his former maid, Aunt Ling, someone he hadn't expected to encounter."Is this some kind of déjà vu?" he mused, attempting to comprehend the unexpected connection."Aunt? I don't have a nephew, though," Natasha Ling stated, confusion evident on her face."I'm sorry, but you remind me of someone I used to know." Drake stumbled, trying to gather his thoughts.Natasha Ling gave him a puzzled look. "I see. Well, Mr. Chwe, could you please take a seat? How may I assist you today?"Drake's suspicions nagged at him, yet he masked his unease with a professional demeanor. "I've been looking forward to discussing potential collaborations between our companies. Your agency comes highly recommended."Throughout the meeting, Drake found it increasingly challenging to dismiss the striking resemblance between Natasha Ling and his former maid. Her mannerisms, the subtle inflections in her voice—each deta
Drake continued walking, fully aware of the persistent presence trailing behind him. His senses, heightened by the expensive potion he regularly consumed, detected the subtle movements of his pursuer.“Why is she sending someone to follow me after firmly denying the system?” he mused.Instead of hastening his pace or glancing over his shoulder, Drake calmly navigated through labyrinthine alleys until he reached a secluded street cloaked in the eerie afternoon shadows cast by towering buildings. It was the perfect setting for a confrontation.“I'm glad I've been working out,” he muttered to himself.Turning into the desolate alley, a sly smile touched his face. The mysterious follower hesitated but followed him into the shadows.“Gotcha!”Drake whirled around abruptly, facing the pursuer who stepped into the secluded area with a concealed face. Unable to recognize the three men, Drake's eyes narrowed."Too bad I don't care what your purpose is," he remarked, his voice devoid of fear. "
Drake's suspicion only intensified as Natasha remained silent, unfazed by his inquiries. Despite his probing questions, she chose to keep quiet, sitting calmly within the confines of the prison.“Really… who are you?”He observed her, noting her composed demeanor, which only fueled his doubts. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha than she was letting on.As the minutes ticked by in the oppressive silence of the prison, his mind raced with suspicions.He glanced around at the other prisoners, each carrying an air of despair. They seemed resigned to their fate, accepting the grim reality of their situation.Drake's thoughts lingered on Natasha, puzzled by her nonchalance amidst the dire circumstances. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, he leaned closer to her cell, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. "Hey, why are you so calm? How do you know so much about this place and its workings?"Natasha met his gaze with a steady look but offered no response. Her
Drake plummeted through the darkness, his heart racing as the air rushed past him. The descent seemed endless, and the realization that he hadn't considered the height of the ceiling hit him like a ton of bricks. Panic fueled his descent, and he flailed through the air, desperately trying to find something to grab onto. Just as the terror threatened to overwhelm him, he crashed through a wooden platform. The impact wasn't as harsh as he expected, and he found himself in a dimly lit room, surrounded by crates and barrels. “Ugh! I didn't sign up for this!” Drake groaned, feeling aches and pains from the fall, but relief washed over him—he was alive. As he took in his surroundings, Drake noticed a group of people huddled in a corner, engaged in an intense discussion. They looked oblivious to his sudden entrance, their attention absorbed in a makeshift map spread out on the floor. "Are you here to join?" a voice hissed from the shadows, making Drake jump. He turned to see a wiry figur