Chapter 179: Chapter 179



Rafael froze for a moment before rising abruptly. “That’s me!”

“The patient is extremely vulnerable right now and could experience severe hemorrhaging at any moment. You should brace for all possibilities,” the doctor warned gravely.

In that instant, Rafael cursed his medical expertise. Such words from a doctor often signified dwindling hope. “You must save her!” he implored desperately.

“We’ll do everything we can,” the doctor reassured. Rafael stood motionless, not allowing himself a moment to grieve as he pondered his next steps to aid Joelle.

At Illerith Airport, Adrian slumped in the departure lounge, his expression somber. An hour had passed beyond their scheduled departure, yet the weather showed no signs of improving, casting a gloomy and oppressive pall over the airport.

His assistant approached him, breaking the tense silence. “Mr. Miller, the flight has been officially delayed, as has Miss Lloyd’s. The severe weather is to blame.”

Adrian took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to process the delay. However, the movement aggravated the fresh wound in his abdomen, causing him to wince in pain. “It’s too late,” he murmured.

He wanted to ask Joelle about her pregnancy, but the flight was suspended, and he couldn’t get through to her or Rafael. When Lyla had revealed Joelle’s pregnancy, the news had struck him more with alarm than elation. While he was overjoyed at the prospect of a child with Joelle after all these years, he was perplexed and hurt by her secrecy. He was besieged by questions he needed to pose to Joelle. His patience had reached its limit.

Initially, the assistant misinterpreted Adrian’s declaration of “it’s too late” as a resignation to abandon his journey for the day. However, an hour later, it became evident just how resolute Adrian was in his pursuit.

With the rain easing slightly, Adrian made his way towards a private jet, shielded by a black umbrella. This jet, an acquisition from a previous auction, proved unexpectedly useful. “Mr. Miller, the pilot is ready, and for your safety, a doctor will accompany us to ensure your wound remains stable. We’ll make a stop midway for security reasons. The journey will take us nineteen hours,” the assistant informed him, meticulously planning for all contingencies.

Adrian seemed to drift away from the conversation, his thoughts elsewhere. The assistant’s voice cut through the gusting wind. “Someone is calling you.”

Refocusing, Adrian discerned the distant cries. “Adie! Adie! Don’t leave me alone!”

Rebecca was sprinting towards them through the rain, distress written across her face, while Kendal, hindered by his age, trailed behind her clutching an umbrella and his suitcase. Adrian, his gaze sharpening as he recognized the urgency in her voice, recalled that Kendal intended to take Rebecca abroad for medical treatment.

“Adie! Don’t leave me alone!” she pleaded, reaching him, tears mingling with the rain. “Adie, are you heading overseas? Please, take me with you. I can’t bear the thought of waiting here to die!”

Despite the uncertainty of when regular flights would resume, Adrian had resolved to risk the trip on his private jet, acutely aware of the potential dangers. “Rebecca, I can’t bring you along this time. There’s something crucial I must attend to first.”

Rebecca sank to her knees, clutching Adrian’s sleeve desperately. “It doesn’t matter, Adie. If you could just take me, I’d go with you to see Joelle first! Dr. Perry believes there’s still hope for my treatment. I can’t just sit here waiting to die. Please, Adie.”

Her emotional plea touched everyone present. The gravely ill often clung to life with a ferocity unmatched by the healthy. The assistant carefully explained the risks involved with the journey.

Rebecca nodded determinedly, her voice steady. “I’m not afraid.”

Adrian’s face remained impassive, yet his decision was made. “Then, we’ll go together.”

“Thank you, Adie!” Rebecca’s cry was one of relief and gratitude.

“Miss Lloyd, please, get up,” the assistant urged. Together, the group made their way to the jet. Rebecca stayed close to Adrian, her presence a silent assertion of her resolve. Unbeknownst to them, a distant camera captured this poignant moment.

More than twenty-four hours had elapsed since Joelle was rushed into the delivery room. Her vital signs were now teetering on the brink of critical. The doctor fitted an oxygen mask over her face and checked her eyes, only to find her pupils worryingly unfocused.

Unable to remain on the sidelines any longer, Rafael donned sterile attire and entered the delivery room. The sight of Joelle, so fragile and pale, wrenched his heart. “Joelle,” he murmured, taking her lifeless hand into his gloved ones.

“Please, gather your strength. If you hold on, both you and the baby will make it through this.”

Joelle lay unresponsive, her indifference masking the exhaustion and pain that urged her towards sleep. “Joelle, didn’t you ask me earlier to check on Adrian?” Rafael mustered a feeble smile, though tears betrayed his efforts, his voice breaking with emotion. “I have news. Adrian is safe. He’s flying Rebecca abroad for treatment. He’s alright, Joelle. Can you hear me?”

A slight twitch of Joelle’s fingers and the intermittent fogging of her oxygen mask signaled a flicker of awareness. The news of Adrian’s safety rekindled a spark within her. “So, Joelle, Adrian is out there, living. Why would you choose to give up now? You need to survive, to thrive with your child!”

A weak smile crept across Joelle’s face as she slowly focused on Rafael. “Okay, I know. Thank you, Rafael.”

With the realization that Adrian had departed with another, the weight of her thoughts shifted. Having brushed with mortality once already, Joelle resolved anew—from this moment forward, she would live solely for herself and her child.

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