Hotel


    Charles hadn''t left Charlie''s side for a second. He''d kept watch all night with her and her mother, exhaustion finally overtaking him. Clutching his little girl''s hand, he slumped against the bed, drifting into a shallow, uneasy sleep.


    He''d just closed his eyes when Charlie, who''d seemed to be sleeping soundly, suddenly let out a weak, anguished whimper.


    "Mm..."


    The sound was barely there, but it cut through Charles''s heart like a shard of ice.


    He jolted awake, instantly alert. On the bed, Charlie''s small face flushed an unnatural red, her breathing quick and shallow. Without warning, her body started to shake violently, sweat breaking out across her forehead. Her lips faded to a scary bluish-purple, and her hands and feet turned ice-cold.


    "Charlie! Charlie, what''s happening?!" Charles''s voice wasced with panic, barely held in check.


    Frantically, he checked her over, then shouted at Q outside the door, his tone sharp and urgent: "Get the car! Now! We''re going to the manor!"


    Nothing could happen to his Charlie. He wouldn''t allow it. Not at any cost.


    A chill of dread swept through the suite as Q rushed to get things ready.


    In the car, Charles clung tightly to his daughter, regret burning in his chest-he should''ve taken her to Francisst night for a checkup. Here in Country Y, Francis was the only one he could trust, and his estate had the finest private doctors around.


    But on the way to Korbin Manor, Charlie''s condition spiraled. She started to vomit violently, each time bringing up strange, dark red streaks of blood. Her temperature swung wildly, her pupils going from zed to pinprick and back. Her tiny body kept convulsing, her life force visibly slipping away.


    "Faster! Step on it!" Charles''s voice cracked. He wrapped himself around Charlie, shielding her from the car''s walls as she shook, his heart feeling like it was being wrenched apart.


    The car sped through the city, weaving through the early morning traffic.


    They reached Francis''s manor in record time. The medical team was already waiting, prepped and tense.


    Charlie was rushed into Francis''s private clinic.


    Every second stretched out painfully. Charles paced outside like a trapped animal, his expensive jacket wrinkled and forgotten, eyes bloodshot and wild.


    Francis stood nearby, silent, just resting a reassuring hand on Charles''s shoulder.


    No one knew how long it was before the doors finally opened.


    The lead doctor stepped out, pulling off his mask, his face grave as he approached.


    "Mr. Francis, Mr. Jenkins..." His tone was heavy. "We ran every test we could. The situation is...plicated. Very rare."


    "What''s wrong with her?!" Charles''s voice was hoarse, straining with desperation.


    "We found a... highly unusual


    biotoxin in her system. Actually, it''s


    more like a living agent-something


    we''ve never seen in any medical record."


    The doctor chose his words


    carefully, brow furrowed. "It seems


    designed to attack the nervous and cardiovascr systems. It''s almost.. intelligent. Standard antidotes and detox treatments


    don''t work at all. Worse, they seem


    to make it attack even faster."


    "We don''t understand its mechanism. All we can do is support her life functions,


    but that''s only a temporary fix. The toxin keeps spreading."


    He hesitated, looking into Charles''s bloodshot eyes, then forced himself to continue. "We''ve tried every- antidote we know, even reached out to international toxin experts for help-nobody has a solution."


    “This isn''t a natural poison. It''s targeted, like a weapon made for this purpose. We


    think it needs a very specific... ''key'' to unlock it."


    "Otherwise, with the way things are going, Miss Charlie won''tst forty-eight hours."


    "A key?!"


    Charles''s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white, veins bulging. An icy


    fear raced up his spine, freezing his thoughts.


    In that instant, it all made sense-


    It was her.


    Only her.


    Luna, still under the control of Dahlia''s twisted heart.


    "He Lian Yue!"


    Charles ground out the name, every syble heavy with hatred and murder, as if


    saying it alone could tear her apart.


    He should have ended her, right from the start.