The Billionaire's Secret Quartet

Chapter 1450
Alaric fought to suppress the rising tide of anxiety and concern within him, struggling to sound composed when he finally found
the words to ask. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, fearful of hearing the worst possible news.
After all, a car accident can range from a minor scrape to a major catastrophe. In the worst-case scenario, it could mean a one-
way trip to the morgue. Best case, it might involve a few broken bones or some scrapes and bruises.
The very thought of the word “morgue” made Alaric’s blood run cold, and he silently prayed he wouldn’t hear it from the nurse’s
lips
The nurse, her collar crumpled from Alaric’s anxious grip, tried to compose herself despite the imposing presence of the man
before her.
Alaric, with his striking looks and noble demeanor, was clearly a man of wealth and influence, exuding an intimidating aura that
was both frightening and inexplicably thrilling.
The nurse, barely in her twenties, had never encountered such a handsome man in the flesh. Stealing a glance at Alaric, she felt
her heart flutter with a mix of fear and attraction.
Though he had been somewhat rough with her moments before, she was still eager to assist him. “Sir, please come with me. I’ll
help you find the information you need,” the nurse said, leading Alaric to the surgical ward.
Upon inquiring at the nurse’s station, they learned that a woman named Hertha was in the intensive care unit.
“Intensive care?” Alaric’s entire body tensed, his complexion turning ashen, his heart constricting as if caught in a vice.
“The patient’s file is here. Take a look,” the head nurse said, handing over Hertha’s medical records to Alaric.
The doctor’s handwriting was a scribbled mess, indecipherable to Alaric, especially in his current state of mind. He flipped
through the pages haphazardly, then, unable to discern the medical jargon, demanded, “Please, just tell me how she’s doing.”
The head nurse, taken aback by his commanding presence, replied, “The patient sustained a head injury. She was bleeding
profusely upon arrival, but thankfully, we managed to stabilize her. She’s been in intensive care for observation. If she doesn’t
develop a fever or any other complications, she’ll be moved to a regular room.”
She’s alive!

Clutching onto those words, Alaric’s heart, which had been wound up tight, finally began to uncoil.
“As long as Hertha’s alive, that’s all that matters,” he thought.
“I need to see her,” he said, moving to leave.
“Sir, you can’t go in just yet,” the head nurse called after him. “The ICU has strict regulations. Patients are off-limits to visitors
during observation. Give it half an hour; she’s due to be transferred to a regular room soon, and then you can see her.”
Understanding the gravity of ICU restrictions, Alaric paused. Bringing in outside germs or viruses could be disastrous for the
patients.
“By the way, sir, there’s still the matter of Ms. Hertha’s medical bills. If you’re a relative, would you mind settling the account?” the
head nurse asked, handing Alaric the billing statement.
Without hesitation, Alaric took the paperwork. “I’ll take care of it.”
Half an hour later, Hertha was transferred to a regular ward.
Alaric entered the room to find her lying on the bed, her head wrapped in bandages, an IV dripping into the back of her hand,
and a heart monitor beeping steadily on the nightstand.
The vivacious, lively woman he knew lay silent and still, a stark contrast that unsettled Alaric. A heavy ache settled in his chest-
this must be what heartache felt like.
He approached the bedside, watching Hertha’s peaceful face. Her pale complexion was a grim reminder of her ordeal. Her long
lashes lay motionless over her closed eyes. If not for the reassuring rhythm of the heart monitor, she could have been mistaken
for dead.
The sight twisted Alaric’s heart in agony.