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His entire face shifted. The slight confusion turned into something darker. Murderous.

He spun around, eyes sharp and voice colder than steel. “Call her.”

Xander stiffened and immediately pulled out his own phone, dialing without question. A few seconds passed. Same result.

No ring. No voicemail. Just silence and then that robotic message.

Then his brows furrowed.

“No ring,” he said quietly. “No voicemail either.”

He gave Lorenzo an awkward look. “Sir… Mrs. has blocked you.”

Chapter 4 Where Are You

A thick vein throbbed on Lorenzo’s forehead.

His hand shot up, raking through his hair as he paced a step back, fury boiling under his skin. Then came the bitter laugh—short, sharp, and void of humor.

“She blocked me?” he repeated in disbelief, as if the words themselves didn’t register.

He looked toward the hospital doors, his gaze ice-cold and burning all at once.

“Fine,” he growled. “Find her. I want to know where she’s gone, who she’s with, and what time she even blinked.”

His voice dropped into a low warning. “Let’s see how far she really thinks she can run from me.”

"Yes, Mr. Moretti," Xander muttered, pulling out his phone and walking off with urgency as he dialed a number.

Just then, Dr. Lyle came rushing out of the hospital doors, his face pale, brows furrowed in concern. He stopped right in front of Lorenzo, slightly breathless.

"Mr. Moretti," he said quickly, "Ms. Esther’s condition has flared up again. It's bad."

Lorenzo didn’t waste a second. The moment he heard Esther’s name, he spun around and strode back inside with Lyle by his side. His long strides were firm and fast.

They pushed through the ward doors, and Lorenzo's eyes immediately landed on Esther.

She was curled forward on the hospital bed, her hands clutching the sides of her head as she rocked gently, soft sobs escaping her lips. Her pale face was contorted in pain, her body trembling under the thin blanket.

The moment her eyes found him, she stilled—like a drowning girl spotting a rescue boat. Her gaze locked onto him desperately, pleading, broken, as if just the sight of him was enough to ground her in the chaos.

Lorenzo took a step forward, but before he could reach her, the team of doctors surrounded the bed. One of them gently tilted Esther back as another administered the sedative through her IV.

Within seconds, her body slackened, the tension draining from her limbs. Her sobs faded into silence, and her eyelids fluttered shut.

Once the room settled and the steady beep of monitors replaced the chaos, Dr. Lyle stepped quietly beside Lorenzo. His voice dropped to a low, cautious tone.

“Mr. Moretti… Ms. Esther’s condition is worsening rapidly. If we don’t begin treatment with Astra within the next ten days, she might not make it.”

Lorenzo didn’t speak at first. His jaw locked tight, his eyes fixed on the fragile figure lying unconscious in the bed. After a beat, he gave a curt, sharp nod.

Then he turned to Xander, his voice low but edged with fire.

“Find Astra. I don’t care what it takes—money, people, favors—burn every bridge if you have to. I want her here before Esther’s time runs out.”

“Understood, sir,” Xander said with a stiff nod, voice all business.

He shot a quick glance at Esther, then turned and walked out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, the professionalism melted off his face like cheap cologne in the sun. He planted his hands on his hips, narrowed his eyes, and threw one last look at the door.