No One’s POV

Amelia stormed through the glass doors of the hospital, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

Behind the main desk, the receptionists instantly noticed the frantic heiress. They exchanged a nervous glance, recognizing her immediately from the high-society charity galas her family frequently hosted at the facility.

"I need a detailed medical report of a patient," Amelia demanded, slamming her designer purse onto the counter.

The head receptionist forced a polite smile. "Yes, Miss. What is the patient’s name, please?"

"Vivien."

The receptionist froze completely. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as her expression stiffened

"What is taking you so long?!" Amelia snapped, her voice rising, completely losing her usual composed demeanor. "Type it in!"

"Well, Miss... I am incredibly sorry, but we are under strict orders," the receptionist said, her tone cautious but firm. "We absolutely cannot share any personal information regarding this specific patient."

"And why can’t you?!" Amelia’s face twisted in pure, unbridled anger.

Several nearby nurses, patients, and visitors paused in their tracks, completely stunned to see the heiress acting like a maniac. The entire public knew Amelia as a sweet, aloof, and gentle high-society angel. Seeing her aggressively bark at hospital staff was completely shattering her carefully crafted reputation.

"I am deeply, deeply sorry, Miss..." the receptionist murmured, bowing her head slightly to de-escalate the situation, but refusing to touch the computer keys.

"You! I can make you lose your job with a single phone call!" Amelia hissed, leaning over the counter, her eyes bulging. "Do you even know who my father is?! Do you know who I am- ?!"

Before she could finish her threat, her assistant frantically rushed forward, grabbing Amelia by the arm and forcefully dragging her backward toward a quieter corner of the lobby.

"Miss, please! Everyone is watching you!" the assistant whispered frantically, her eyes darting around the room in pure panic. "People have their phones out! If a video of this leaks to the media, especially right after that viral post from earlier, it will be an absolute PR nightmare for your family!"

Amelia violently ripped her arm out of the assistant’s grip, huffing heavily as she tried to control her breathing. Her chest heaved with rage. But just as she was about to turn and leave, a sudden piece of information clicked in her mind. She smoothed down her skirt, took a sharp breath, and marched right back to the reception desk.

"Fine. If you won’t give me the file, then just tell me this," Amelia muttered coldly. She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, and shoved a photograph directly into the receptionist’s face.

"Did this guy come over here before?" Amelia demanded, her eyes locking onto the receptionist’s face to catch any micro-expression.

The receptionist stared at the photo on the screen, and a flicker of recognition crossed her eyes. She slowly nodded. "Yes, Miss.’’

"And who did he meet?" Amelia asked narrowing her eyes.

"Its...um..." The girl didnt knew what to answer and started stuttering.

Amelia got her answer. As expected.....After all she wasnt as dumb as he thought she was!

Without a single word, Amelia spun around and stormed out of the hospital, her eyes burning with an angrier focus. The terrified assistant didn’t dare say a word, quickly running to keep up with her as they headed back to the waiting car.

Getting into the backseat of the car, the assistant nervously adjusted her glasses, her voice trembling as she looked at her furious boss through the rearview mirror. "Uh... Miss Amelia? What... what should I do about the... the underground gang leader? He’s still calling the burner phone demanding the money..."

"Toss him as much money as he wants!" Amelia snapped, waving her hand dismissively as she stared out the window, her expression hollow. "Pay him off, wire the funds, do whatever it takes to shut his disgusting mouth!"

Right now, she didn’t care about the money, and she didn’t even care about the thugs. She needed to confirm a suspicion that was eating her alive from the inside out. And to do that... she had to find that damn book. She remember tossing it aside outta anger.

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The Next Morning

Vivien’s eyes were completely bloodshot, dark purple circles hanging under her lower lids as she sprinting down the campus hallway. She looked like a literal lunatic. Reaching the heavy doors of the headmaster’s office, she stood panting, clutching her side as she aggressively knocked.

There was no response.

Her brows furrowed in deep confusion.

Knock, knock, knock.

Still, absolute silence. Wait, is that grumpy suit actually late today? Vivien thought, blinking in disbelief. A corporate tyrant like Dominic Valente, who literally breathed discipline and perfection, being late for his university oversight duty? Unbelievable.

Just then, a passing professor noticed her frantic knocking and stopped. "Oh, Miss Vivien? If you are looking for Mr. Valente, his secretary called ahead. He will be quite late to the campus today due to an urgent business matter."

"Ah... I see. Thank you, Professor!" Vivien politely bowed.

Turning around to walk toward her examination hall, a massive, triumphant grin slowly spread across her face. Late? What is that devil even up to? But honestly, who cares! The less contact I have with that man, the absolute better for my survival! She practically cheered internally, doing a tiny victory dance in her head as she rushed through the classroom doors. Her exam was about to start in exactly two minutes!

She slid into her row, hurriedly pulling out her pens, and glanced to her side.

And of course, sitting right next to her with a charming smirk on his face, was her regular deskmate, Enzo once again.

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Dominic stepped through the doors of the hospital, his tall body radiating a freezing aura that immediately lowered the temperature in the lobby.

The receptionists, who had been quietly relaxing and gossiping, instantly stiffened. Their eyes widened in absolute terror, and they were internally screaming. First Miss Amelia turns up like a lunatic last night, and now the most famous, powerful billionaire in the city walks in the next morning?! What on earth is happening with this hospital?!

"The file I asked for- is it ready?" Dominic’s cold voice rang out.

The head receptionist nodded frantically, her hands shaking as she pulled out a folder. "Y-Yes, Mr. Valente. Here it is."

Dominic took the file, but he didn’t open it yet. Instead, he pulled out his phone, unlocked the screen, and turned the display toward her. It was the picture of Enzo. "Was this the man who paid for Vivien’s medical bills while she was in the coma?"

The receptionist looked at the screen, recognizing the face instantly and nodded rapidly. "Yes, sir. That is him."

With a low hum, Dominic pocketed his phone and turned around, his polished shoes clicking against the floor as he walked away. But just as he was nearing the exit, the quiet whispers of the receptionists drifted to his ears.

"Who even is this girl?" one whispered, leaning into her colleague. "The way she has the two most powerful, famous faces in high society coming here to inquire about her... it’s insane."

"Haha, yeah! It’s literally like those classic self-insert Webnovels, but in real life," the other chuckled quietly.

Dominic stopped dead in his tracks.

The silence that followed was suffocating. He slowly turned around, his dark, piercing eyes locking onto the two women. They both gulped, the color completely draining from their faces as he began walking straight back toward them

"Who else has asked for her?" Dominic demanded, his voice dangerously low.

"Uh... i-it..." the first receptionist started to stutter, clutching her pen tightly. "It was Miss Amelia, sir. She came here late last night."

Dominic’s dark brows furrowed into a deep frown. Amelia? Why on earth was she here looking for information of Vivien?

"And what else did she do?" he pressed, leaning slightly over the counter.

"She... she did the exact same thing you just did, sir," the girl squeaked out, terrified of his aura. "She pulled out her phone and showed us the exact same picture of that blonde man, asking if he had visited Vivien."

Dominic pondered the information for a moment. Amelia was looking for Enzo too? what was the secret connection between Amelia and Enzo? Why were all three of them tied to Vivien’s coma?

Without another word, Dominic turned and left the hospital. This time, instead of driving to the college campus, he instructed his driver to head straight back to his corporate headquarters. He had a puzzle to solve.

Slamming his office door shut, Dominic sat behind his desk and pulled out the background report his security team had compiled on Amelia’s activities over the past five months. He slowly began turning the pages, his eyes scanning the data until they locked onto something highly unusual.

According to her credit card logs and GPS tracking, during those exact five months, Amelia had barely left her estate. She spent nearly ninety percent of her time locked inside her bedroom. The girl who used to post glamorous lifestyle updates every single day on social media had completely stopped uploading.

Dominic’s mind raced as he recalled her recent behavior. He remembered how she had abruptly canceled every single dinner date his mother had tried to arrange between them. And whenever they did cross paths in brief passing, she had flinched away from him, avoiding his gaze and acting as if she were completely terrified of his presence. As if he murdered her in her past life or something.

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The rustle of papers filling the room finally stopped as the instructor collected the last of the exam sheets and walked out, shutting the classroom door behind him. One by one, the exhausted students filed out into the hallway, leaving only two people behind in the suddenly empty, quiet room.

THUD.

Vivien slammed her forehead straight down onto the cool desk, letting out a dramatic groan. "Finally... holy mac and cheese, that nightmare is over," she muttered into her sleeves, her brain feeling completely fried from hours of writing Python code.

"How was your exam?" Enzo’s smooth melodic voice echoed beside her.

"Ugh... it was good, I guess," Vivien muttered, lazily turning her head to the side, resting her cheek on her arms so she could face him.

She stared blankly at him, her bloodshot eyes slowly tracking downward from his sharp jawline until her gaze fell over his right hand, which was casually resting on the desk. Her eyes narrowed. His fingers were unusually long, elegant, and slender but right at the joints and the side of his middle finger, there were distinct calluses. The kind of calluses that only formed when someone spent hours upon hours tightly gripping a pen, pressing down on paper day after day, year after year.

It looked exactly like the hand of someone who writes an insane amount.

Suddenly a random thought popped into her head. She let out a dry chuckle. "Hey, Enzo... are you secretly a writer or something? Because it seriously looks like you write a whole lot," she said, raising an eyebrow jokingly.

Enzo didn’t blink.

Instead, a smirk spread across his lips. He turned his head, his face inches from hers as he leaned forward. The usual playful, charming mask he wore in class completely dissolved for a second, revealing a freezing familiar glint deep within his dark eyes.

"What do you think?" Enzo murmured softly, but for some reason it was chilling to hear.

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TO BE CONTINUED