Following the Shadows

Nearly half an hour later, the elevator chimed, echoing across the marble floor. The steel doors slid open, revealing Damian and Chloe. Damian wore a tailored dark suit, his expression unreadable, radiating a chilling aura that demanded distance.

Serena rose from the sofa at once. Her heels clicked sharply as she moved to intercept him.

"Damian—"

Before his name could fully leave her lips, Chloe lunged forward, intentionally wedging her shoulder between Serena and Damian. Her fingers clamped onto his forearm.

"Damian, we need to hurry," Chloe urged, her voice laced with panic. "Vivian doesn't seem to be doing well. You should go see her quickly."

Damian did not spare Serena a single glance. He treated her physical presence like thin air. His long legs carried him forward, striding past her with an icy indifference that stung worse than a physical blow.

Serena twisted around, chasing after him toward the exit. She threw herself in front of him, physically blocking his path. She raised a hand, grabbing his dark sleeve.

"Damian, just give me one minute," she begged desperately. Tessa’s fate hung in the balance.

Chloe sneered, stepping up beside him and slapping Serena's hand away. "Serena Sterling! No matter how hungry you are for attention, can you at least read the room?" She raised her voice, ensuring the receptionists heard. "Vivian is in a terrible situation right now. Are you trying to kill her on purpose by delaying Damian? Why are you so despicable?"

Serena stared at Chloe, refusing to back down. Keeping her tone calm and level-headed, Serena pointed out the glaring flaw. "You didn't seem to be in any rush when you were recklessly mocking me moments ago. So why the sudden panic now?"

Chloe stiffened, her face flushing with rage. "Stop wasting our time! You'll be the first person Damian comes after if anything bad happens to Vivian!"

"That's enough."

The freezing tone sliced through the lobby. Damian’s thin patience snapped. He shifted his gaze to Serena, his dark eyes boring into hers. There was no warmth in his stare—only a dangerous warning.

"Serena," his voice dropped into a menacing growl. "If anything happens to Vivian because you delayed us here today, do not blame me. I will personally hold you responsible for it."

The sheer weight of his imposing aura forced Serena to freeze. Instinctively intimidated by the dark coldness radiating from him, her fingers uncurled from his sleeve. She let her hand drop lifelessly.

She watched powerlessly as Chloe shot her a victorious glare and haughtily led him out through the glass doors.

Desperate to find a way to resolve Tessa’s dire case, Serena hurried to the curb and hailed a passing taxi.

"Follow that car ahead," she told the driver, pointing at Damian’s luxury vehicle pulling away.

The taxi trailed behind the luxury car through the bustling streets. Serena sat on the edge of her seat, covertly tailing her husband. The chase eventually led them to a secluded neighborhood, pulling up to the grand entrance of an exclusive, high-end clubhouse.

Damian handed his keys to the valet and strode inside. The attendants greeted him respectfully, waving him through without a second glance.

Serena rushed to the entrance, intending to follow him inside.

"Miss, please show me your membership card," the guard at the door said, stepping directly into her path.

"I'm here for Damian Sinclair. I came with him," Serena said, pointing toward the elegant doors he had vanished behind.

The guard did not budge an inch. "Please show me your membership card, Miss. No one enters without one." His tone made it clear he viewed her as just another scheming woman trying to latch onto a wealthy patron.

Flatly denied entry, Serena retreated to the driveway. The afternoon sun beat down relentlessly. The sweltering heat baked the pavement, radiating through the thin soles of her shoes. She stood vigil by the manicured hedges, wiping sweat from her forehead. Minutes ticked by, stretching into an agonizing wait. She shifted her weight, determined not to leave.

Finally, the clubhouse doors opened.

Damian emerged into the blinding sunlight. In his strong arms, he carefully carried a battered, physically disheveled woman. Vivian’s hair was a tangled mess over Damian’s coat, which he had draped over her shoulders. One side of her pale cheek was swollen and bruised.

Chloe fluttered anxiously beside them, talking rapidly, but Damian focused solely on getting Vivian to the car. He carefully placed her into the backseat.

Serena sprinted back to the main road and frantically waved down another taxi.

"Keep up with that car," she instructed the driver the moment she slid into the back seat.

The pursuit resumed. Damian drove aggressively, weaving through heavy traffic. Anticipating his route based on Vivian's obvious need for medical attention, Serena directed the driver toward the nearest major hospital.

Damian’s car sat idling near the emergency entrance.

Serena paid the driver and hurried inside. It took nearly half an hour of discreet searching before she located the private VIP ward on the upper floor.

The hallway was dead quiet. Chloe was suspiciously nowhere in sight.

Serena approached the room slowly. The heavy wooden door had been left slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out onto the floor. She stopped right outside, holding her breath.

Peering through the narrow crack, she inadvertently caught intimate snippets of the conversation within.

"I'm sorry for troubling you again, Damian," Vivian said. Her voice was raspy, trembling with vulnerability.

"You don't have to be so polite with me." Damian’s reply made Serena’s chest tighten. The man whose voice was always so freezing toward her now sounded impossibly low and gentle. "Besides, you'd still be able to play the piano beautifully if it wasn't for me."

Vivian let out a defeated sigh. "It's a pity I can't be a pianist anymore, but my current career is fine."

Silence stretched for a few heavy seconds.

"Vivian," Damian murmured, the deep guilt bleeding through his tone. "I'm sorry."

"Damian, it's not your fault. Don't apologize."

Standing in the quiet hallway, Serena felt her breath hitch. Her mind began rapidly piecing together the dark, heart-wrenching history she had forgotten. The scattered fragments of her amnesia suddenly aligned into a devastating picture.

Vivian had been a brilliant pianist. She had sacrificed her beautiful career for Damian, securing an unshakable place in his heart as his unforgettable first love. Then, the past Serena had forcefully appeared. She must have used despicable, ruinous measures to trap Damian into this loveless marriage, intentionally tearing them apart and driving Vivian out of the city.

Now, Vivian had returned. She was back in his arms, battered and needing his protection. It all made perfect sense. Damian desperately wanted a divorce because he could not stand being tied to the woman who ruined the love of his life for a second longer.

The truth felt like a physical blow. The overwhelming melancholy of the realization rooted her to the spot. Her past self had been a monster, and now she was paying the ultimate price.

"Ms. Sterling?"

The sudden voice echoed loudly in the quiet corridor. Serena jolted, spinning around in panic.

A young man in a crisp suit stood a few feet away. His expression shifted to visible surprise as he registered the blank look on Serena’s face. She stared at him, searching her memory, but she failed to recognize his face.

"Who are you?" Serena asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The young man looked visibly stunned. His jaw went slack. "I'm Gavin Hayes, Mister Sinclair's personal assistant," he said in sheer disbelief. "How could you forget me?"

Serena opened her mouth, intending to explain the terrible car crash and the amnesia that had wiped away her memories.

Before a single word could leave her throat, the door to the VIP ward was abruptly pulled open from the inside.

Damian stood at the threshold. His tall frame filled the doorway. The gentle demeanor he had shown Vivian was gone without a trace. His handsome face was apathetic and bone-chillingly cold. His dark eyes locked onto Serena, piercing right through her defenses.

He stared at her for a long, tense moment.

"Serena," he demanded softly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Why are you here?"