Navigating her wheelchair, Ariana endeavored to obtain an unobstructed view of his countenance. However, with Holden's arrival, the crowd grew even more congested.

The throng surged toward her, impeding her line of sight. Struggling to forge a path, she remained oblivious to the obstacle ahead. Inadvertently, her wheelchair tipped over, colliding with a long table and causing the tall glasses arrayed upon it to topple and fall perilously in her direction.

Trapped by the weight of the wheelchair upon her legs, Ariana was unable to promptly rise. She could only raise her hand to protect her face. Just as she feared making a public spectacle of herself, a man positioned himself before her.

When chaos erupted, Theodore immediately recognized the familiar figure lying on the floor. A surge of anxiety coursed through him as he realized he was too late to shield her from the falling wine glasses.

In the nick of time, someone swooped in and fulfilled his duty, swiftly shielding Ariana from the glasses.

‘Theodore's eyes locked on the man, a doctor by the name of Mitchel.

What was he doing here with Ariana?

Their apparent familiarity with each other raised eyebrows in Theodore's mind. Had they been secretly in touch recently?

Cautioning himself against overthinking, Theodore's instinctual desire to hold Ariana in his arms was swiftly intercepted by Adrian's intervention.

"Take a breath, my friend. Now is not the opportune moment. I believe revealing your true identity would overwhelm her," Adrian cautioned, shaking his head to drive home the point.

Theodore regained control of his faculties, compelling himself to restrain his emotions, and slipped away before Ariana caught sight of him.

Ariana, still in a state of shock, sought refuge behind a broad shoulder. As she gradually regained her composure, her gaze fell on Mitchel, whose coat and shirt bore the stains of red wine, leaving him disheveled and unkempt.

"Dr. Chadwick, are you alright?" Ariana was anxious to check on his well-being.

The shattered glasses and splattered wine had hit Mitchel mercilessly, leaving his hands and face grazed by sharp fragments.

Ariana attempted to rise from the floor, only to be pricked by the debris scattered across the floor, eliciting a wince of pain and sending her back down.

“Hold still. The floor is strewn with broken glasses," Mitchel calmly advised, as he helped Ariana back onto her feet and settled her in her wheelchair which he just overturned.

“Dr. Chadwick, there's no need for you to take care of me. Let's attend to the wound on your face first." Ariana expressed a mix of guilt and gratitude. Today, she had chosen to don silk attire, and if it had been stained by wine, it would have turned embarrassingly transparent. Despite Mitchel's gallant efforts to shield her throughout the incident, her dress had already fallen victim to the spilled drink!

Seeing her dampened dress, Mitchel motioned to a waiter, requesting a blanket, which he gently wrapped around her.

Ariana regarded him with concer, her voice filled with sincerity.

"Dr. Chadwick, what about the wound on your face?"