He could return to the life he had before. Maybe he wasn’t interested in other women right now, but who’s to say he wouldn’t meet someone in the near future, someone who could truly move his heart, someone he could have all to himself?


    Besides, they lived in different countries. She never expected him to leave his homnd for her; his roots, his life, everything he built were there. And she wouldn’t leave hers either. Her family’s legacy was deeply rooted in her own country, and her loved ones were there too. So, to Hera, it just didn’t make sense. She didn’t see the point in holding on to something that seemed destined to drift apart.


    But deep down, Alexandre knew this wasn’t just stubbornness or fleeting infatuation. As shallow as it might sound, he had fallen in love with Hera at first sight. And as much as love couldn’t be forced, it also couldn’t be controlled, or stopped. That truth left him at a loss. He didn’t want this budding love to end before it even had a chance to grow.


    He pressed his lips together, staring quietly at Hera’s hands, uncertain of what to do.


    "Alright, we’ll do that. I’ll start arranging the flight schedule for our return," Xavier said, pulling out his phone.


    But Dr. Zigheart quickly stopped him. "No need. We already have a private jet waiting at the airport. The captain just needs to file for runway clearance and a time slot. Once that’s approved, we’re good to go," he said.


    Xavier froze, his hand hovering above his phone mid-action.


    "Right," Xavier murmured. He had almost forgotten that Hera did, in fact, have a private ne. But the aircraft he was thinking of was different. While Hera indeed has her iconic pink jet, she actually had another, lesser-known one, even she wasn’t fully aware of its existence.


    This second ne was smaller andcked the luxurious amenities of therger one: no private kitchen, no spa, no personal suites or entertainment hubs. However, it was significantly faster, making it ideal for business trips. In contrast, the pink jet was better suited for leisure andfort.


    Dr. Zigheart then turned to Hera, studying her face with a professional calm. "By the way, Young Miss, are you feeling any difort? Any allergic reactions to the medication?" he asked, his eyes scanning her exposed skin for signs of rashes or inmmation.


    Still, he knew that not all symptoms were visible; breathing difficulties, even mild airway constriction, were just as serious. That’s why he needed her response.


    "No, aside from the pain from the fractures, there’s no other difort," Hera replied honestly.


    In truth, with controlled painkiller intake, she would often wake in a cold sweat from the relentless, throbbing pain in her broken ribs, arms, and legs. The difort wasn’t just from the pain; it was also from the sheerck of mobility.


    She couldn’t move on her own; if she needed to go to the bathroom, someone had to assist her. Even shifting slightly in bed to avoid bedsores required help. She couldn’t even scratch an itch beneath her cast.


    If they truly wanted to measure her difort, it would be a solid ten out of ten.


    But Hera understood that no one around her was to me for her condition, and none of them could magically fix it. So, she kept her temper in check, despite how frustrating and exhausting it was.


    Besides, everyone around her was doing their best to amodate her needs and make things easier. That alone made her feel a little better.


    "Alright, Young Miss," Dr. Zigheart began, jotting notes into her file. "Although you’re in a cast, you <i>can</i> move around a little to prevent bedsores. But only with crutches or in a wheelchair, and preferably with someone apanying you if you go outside for fresh air. From what I can see, your overall condition is good. Still, if moving around is too painful, I rmend staying in bed a little longer until you’ve healed more."


    Though Dr. Zigheart wasn’t officially part of the hospital’s staff or Hera’s assigned physician, he had coordinated with her attending doctor and signed a waiver taking full responsibility for her care.


    This meant the hospital was no longer liable for any incidents; essentially, they were only providing the space and facilities for Hera’s recovery. Since she was paying for a premium suite and services, the hospital had no objections. In fact, knowing Dr. Zigheart’s credentials, the hospital director was more than happy to have him around. Some of the staff even took the opportunity to observe his rounds and discuss case studies with him, making it a mutually beneficial arrangement.


    "Really?! I can go out?" Hera’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "I’d love to get some fresh air, is that okay?"


    She had grown restless lying in bed for so long. Her body ached in ces she didn’t even know could hurt, and the thought of going outside, even for a short while—was a much-needed boost to her spirit.