"I can't stay. I have to go see Mrs Hales one last time."
As the maid hurried off, something flickered in Riley's mind.
A nail lodged near a major artery… most doctors wouldn't dare touch it.
But I might.
Still, I need to see the wound first.
And surgery wasn't simple—no proper environment, no sterile setup, no assistants…
Troublesome.
She didn't have time to overthink it. Hugging her stuffed bunny, she followed the stream of servants rushing toward the front courtyard.
If Mrs Hales had raised Adrian, then—
He'd definitely be there.
Before she even reached the doorway, she heard his voice.
Cold. Furious. On the edge of breaking.
"I don't care what it takes—she has to live! You said surgery is possible? Then do it. Now. Immediately. If she dies, I'll shut your entire hospital down!"
Riley stepped inside.
Adrian sat in his wheelchair, his face dark, his entire presence radiating violence.
She stilled.
This is bad…
She moved closer quietly, her gaze flicking to the sachet resting against his chest.
Relief loosened something inside her.
Good. He's still holding it together.
In front of him stood three doctors in white coats, heads lowered as if they wished they could disappear.
They could only laugh bitterly to themselves.
If this could be fixed so easily, why not call Mr Chase? Why drag us into this?
We're doomed.
Adrian's jaw clenched. His temper hadn't cooled at all.
"Where is Lucas? Why hasn't he been dragged here yet?!"
Mr Hales looked stricken. "Master Adrian… Mr Chase has already gone home. It'll take time to bring him here."
"Then send a helicopter. Bring him back—now." His voice dropped, icy and absolute. "And you—prepare the operating room. We operate the moment he arrives."
Mr Hales's expression twisted—caught between gratitude and grief.
He wiped his eyes. "Master Adrian… let it go. Everyone has their fate. You've already done everything you can. Frances… she'll be grateful. Don't make things harder for the doctors. Let her go peacefully. She wouldn't want to trouble you like this."
His voice broke.
"You already brought specialists from overseas. Even they wouldn't operate. It's useless. Let her go."
Mrs Hales was Mr Hales's wife.
They had served the Yates family for years. Later, when Adrian's mother became pregnant, Mrs. Hale was there—caring for her, and later for Adrian himself.
When his parents were too busy to raise him, she had stepped in.
To Adrian—
She was more than a servant.
She was family.
But his answer came without hesitation.
"No."
His voice was low, steady, unwavering.
"I will not give up until the very last moment."
He looked straight ahead, eyes cold but resolute.
"Mr Hales, don't worry. Even if it costs everything I have, I'll find someone who can save her."
The room fell silent.
Mr Hales's eyes reddened instantly, overcome with emotion.
Around them, others began wiping away tears.
For people like them—working in someone else's home—the greatest hope was simply a kind master.
Not being mistreated was already a blessing.
But here—
Even an ordinary servant was treated with this level of care.
It stirred something deep inside them.
And made them all the more certain—
They had chosen the right place to stay.