"What's wrong with her? Why did she faint?"
Xaden's voice was low but edged with restrained fury as he stared at the woman lying unconscious on the bed.
Doctor Gideon swallowed, still shaken from the near-death experience. His fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted the stethoscope and continued examining Ivy. Even now, the phantom sensation of cold metal pressed against his throat made his pulse jump.
For someone who had been in a coma for a few days, her strength had been terrifying.
He had treated soldiers, trauma victims, and even unstable psychiatric patients—but nothing had prepared him for the speed with which she had moved. One moment she had been a fragile patient waking from unconsciousness; the next, she had him in a lethal hold.
"She fainted because her body is still extremely weak," Gideon finally said, clearing his dry throat. His voice came out hoarse. "Her vitals are stable. Apart from exhaustion and temporary shock, everything seems fine."
'Fine.'
The word felt inadequate. From what they had witnessed a while ago seemed far more than fine.
Xaden didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on Ivy's pale face.
He still couldn't erase the image from his mind—the way she had stood in the hallway, eyes blazing, a blade to the doctor's throat. That wasn't the behavior of a frightened woman.
That was instinct.
It was a calculated move. Someone skilled enough to take a few men down.
Suddenly the air inside the room turned chill when Xander's expression darkened.
Xander was already suspicious about her the second she claimed to be the mother of his child. But then an unexpected incident occurred, and she ended up getting hit by the bullet instead of him.
Xaden would be lying to himself if he claimed he didn't know he had enemies. He had built an empire that invited hostility. But this… this had been personal.
If only he had anticipated the timing. If only he had tightened security that night.
He would have protected her.
And if that wasn't a shame, they were still trying to find the shooter who called the shot on him that night.
Instead, she had been unconscious. And now, she had woken up stranger.
"I'll increase her sedative dosage slightly," Gideon offered cautiously. "Just enough to let her body recover."
Xaden finally nodded. "Do what's necessary."
The medical staff quietly left the room one by one, relief evident in their hurried steps.
Silence settled.
While Xaden remained by the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of Ivy's chest. His brows knit slightly.
Something was off.
The fragility didn't match the woman he had seen minutes ago.
His eyes darkened thoughtfully.
Before he could piece his suspicions together, the door burst open.
Taylor rushed in, breathing slightly unevenly—something Xaden rarely saw from his composed assistant.
"Boss," Taylor said urgently, "we have a situation."
Xaden's attention snapped toward him as darkness loomed in his eyes.
"What is it?"
Taylor hesitated for half a second — enough to make Xaden's stomach tighten.
"Young Master is missing."
Every other thought vanished instantly as the air inside the room shifted.
Xaden's expression hardened, his eyes turning dangerously cold. Without another word, he turned on his heels and strode out of the room, his pace sharp and controlled. Taylor followed immediately, already pulling out his phone.
The air around Xaden felt suffocating.
Taylor had worked beside him for years. He knew that silence. It was far more dangerous than anger.
As they exited the hospital building, Taylor made a series of rapid calls — security, estate surveillance, internal staff. His tone was clipped and efficient, but even he couldn't mask the urgency beneath it.
They slipped into the car — Taylor in the passenger seat, the driver already waiting.
"Emerson Estate," Taylor ordered firmly, glancing sideways at his boss.
Xaden said nothing.
He sat in the back seat, hands resting loosely on his knees, gaze fixed ahead. But the stillness was deceptive. The deadly aura radiating from him filled the car with unbearable tension. Even the driver swallowed nervously before pressing the accelerator.
The vehicle sped onto the busy road as no one dared to speak again.
***
[Emerson Estate]
The mansion, usually calm and meticulously organized, had descended into chaos.
Servants rushed through hallways. Security personnel rechecked blind spots. Footsteps echoed against marble floors that normally carried only soft, measured movement.
Panic hung thick in the air.
Butler Rupert stood in the grand foyer, trying to maintain composure despite the tremor threatening his hands. He had served the Emerson family for over three decades. He had witnessed business wars, betrayals, even assassination attempts.
But this—
This was worse.
"B-Butler Rupert, what should we do?" Freda, the head maid, asked anxiously. Her face was pale, her hands clasped tightly in front of her apron. "Do you think Master will spare us?"
She had been the one to check on the young master.
He had gone unusually quiet in the playroom. At first, she thought he had fallen asleep — he sometimes did after tiring himself out. But when she opened the door and found the room empty, her heart had nearly stopped.
The windows were closed.
The balcony locked.
No signs of struggle.
Just… gone.
Freda felt as if her lifespan had shortened by ten years in that moment.
Everyone in the estate knew how precious the child was.
Both Master Xaden and the Elder Master adored him. Leo was the sunshine of the household — mischievous, clever, and far too brave for his own good.
But he also had one defining trait.
Stubbornness.
If he decided to hide, he would hide well. If he decided to sneak out, he would find a way.
But this didn't feel like a child's prank.
Rupert inhaled slowly, forcing calm into his voice. "We've already searched every room, the garden, the west wing, and the surveillance room. There were thirty seconds of camera blackout."
The words alone were enough to send another wave of dread through the gathered staff.
Thirty seconds.
That was all it took.
Rupert adjusted his glasses, though his vision wasn't the problem. His thoughts were.
"Don't panic," he told Freda gently. "The Master will understand the situation."
But even as he said it, his voice softened into something dangerously close to a whisper.
Deep down, he knew reassurance would not shield them.
Xaden Emerson was not unreasonable.
But when it came to his son—he was merciless.
PEEP...
A distant sound of engines approaching cut through the estate grounds, freezing all the servants like statues.
Rupert's spine straightened immediately as the gates opened and the black sedan pulled before them.
The front doors were already open; the staff lined up instinctively. And when Xaden stepped out of the car, the temperature of the entire estate seemed to drop.
His face was expressionless. Which was far worse than rage.
Rupert stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Master—"
"Where," Xaden interrupted quietly, "is my son?"
No one breathed.
No one moved.
Because every person in that hall knew someone was about to pay dearly for those missing thirty seconds.