But after replying, Matteo felt something was amiss. What did Raegan mean by asking him to look after Mitchel in the future? Did she plan to leave for somewhere? He didn't dare to ask outright. After studying her expression, he found it appeared normal, which he felt somewhat unsettling.

“I'll be leaving now, Matteo," Raegan said and quickly departed. She felt if she lingered, her sorrow would overwhelm her.

The next day, at 7:00 a.m., Raegan was already on a plane heading overseas. Joining her were Victor and Erick.

Seeing Raegan continuously staring out the window toward the direction of Ardlens, Erick thought for a moment and then said, “Raegan, if you're worried, we can return."

“There's no need, Erick." With that, Raegan pulled up the blanket, closed her eyes, and began to sleep.

Erick sighed. He could see that Raegan didn't really want to leave.

Even in the hospital, when Raegan had bettered to the point of being discharged, she lingered due to her concern for Mitchel.

But on the day of Mitchel's surgery, she insisted on leaving, which Erick suspected was her way of trying to escape.

Overseas, at 3 a.m., Erick received a call from Ardlens. It was an update about Mitchel's condition.

Mitchel's surgery had gone without a hitch, and now all he needed was to slowly recuperate. It was estimated that it would take another three to four months before he could stand up. After all, he had suffered a severe gunshot wound to his chest. Although it did not hit any vital organs, it had still affected some of his joint mobility.

His knee had been shattered, and after surgery to remove the fragments and clean the area, a 3D-printed joint replacement had been fitted. It would take about six months for him to fully recover and adapt. Recovery wasn't going to be quick.

Erick relayed this good news to Raegan, who took a moment before responding softly, “That's good."

Then, Raegan retreated to her room. Once inside her room, she shut the door, sat at the edge of the bed, and clasped her hands in prayer. “Thank you, God. Thank you for answering my prayers."

One month later, in a high-end hospital room in Ardlens.

Mitchel, wearing a khaki hospital gown and looking thin but unmistakably attractive, heard a sharp knock on the door. "Come in,” he responded, without emotion.

A young nurse entered, pushing an IV stand. When she noticed Mitchel's striking appearance, her cheeks flushed.

On closer inspection, the nurse had put on makeup that was tricky to spot, giving off a kind of fake natural appearance. Her crisp white nurse's uniform added to her innocent yet subtly enticing demeanor.

Yet, Mitchel paid her no attention, indifferent to whoever came in to set up the IV.

The nurse's tone was flirtatious, saying, “Sir, please give me your left hand."

Mitchel complied, extending his left hand, which made the nurse's heart race. His hand was lean and strong, with well-defined joints and a pale elegance that matched his strikingly handsome face.