The hospital hummed with quiet energy. Young nurses moved through its halls, most of them unmarried and quick to notice a good-looking man. Even an averagely handsome one could catch their attention, drawing a glance or two as he passed by. But today was different. This wasn't someone who merely turned heads. This man commanded them. He was striking in every sense of the word, and the gardenias in his hand only enhanced the effect. He carried himself with an ease that hinted at romance, and the nurses couldn't help but take notice. Men like this weren't just rare—they were nearly mythical. Handsome, self-assured, and holding a bouquet? It was enough to set the nurses' station abuzz. They were secretly vying for his attention. Lance strode past, oblivious to the glances and whispers following him. His thoughts were fixed solely on Addison, leaving no room for distractions. Still, the whispers grew louder. A few of the braver nurses seemed ready to approach him, their intentions clear enough. His jaw tightened, and he quickened his pace. The light chatter behind him faded as he stepped into the hushed VIP ward. Here, the noise of the hospital seemed to disappear, replaced by a calm stillness. A few nurses moved about, their steps soft, their focus unwavering. The quiet gave him a moment to collect himself, though unease had started to creep in. The bouquet of gardenias, once a simple gesture, now felt like a weight in his hands. As he reached Addison's door, his steps slowed. The air felt heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. With a steady hand, he pushed the door open. The room inside was pristine, its understated luxury exactly as he remembered. The faint scent of flowers lingered in the air, adding a sense of calm to the space. Two nurses worked efficiently, one wiping surfaces while the other replaced the linens. Their practiced movements filled the otherwise silent room. At the sound of the door, both women turned. For a brief moment, their eyes lit up with surprise, but Lance barely noticed. His gaze swept the room, searching. Addison was gone. Where is she? Why isn't she in the ward? He took a step forward, his eyes scanning every corner. The room felt empty—too empty. There were no signs of her, no personal touches left behind. Only the faint fragrance hinted that she'd ever been there at all. A shadow crossed his face, his expression darkening. His sharp eyes seemed to cloud, as though a storm were gathering within them. "Sir ... are you looking for someone?" one of the nurses asked, her tone cautious. Though they were momentarily flustered by his appearance, they quickly regained their composure. They had rules to follow. "Or is there something you need? Just tell us, and we'll do our best to help." Their words barely reached him. Lance stood motionless, his mind racing. The bed was being changed. Had Addison been moved? Or worse—was this the wrong room? The thought jarred him, and he stepped back into the hallway. His eyes flicked to the room number on the door. No mistake. His memory was impeccable, and he was certain this was the room arranged by the hospital director. If he wasn't wrong, then there was only one possibility: Addison had been relocated. Lance didn't hesitate. He stormed out of the room, his long strides echoing down the hallway. The nurse's voice faded behind him, unanswered. "Hey ... where are you going? "If you need anything, just let us know ... wait up!" But Lance didn't stop. His eyes flicked from one room to the next, moving faster and faster, determined to find her.Luckily, there weren't many VIP rooms to check. Addison's was the highest tier, and Lance quickly covered each one, but there was no sign of her. The gardenia bouquet in his hand began to lose its shape, the flowers wilting, much like his mood. Still, he refused to let them go, gripping them tighter. After searching a little longer with no success, he turned back to the room he'd started from. The nurse saw him and quickly dropped what she was doing to meet him, eager not to lose the chance to talk to him. "Where's the patient from this room?" Lance asked, stepping back inside, his eyes scanning the empty space. The nurse looked confused. "This room ... ?" She picked up the record sheet and flipped through it, muttering under her breath. "This patient was transferred to another hospital this morning," she eventually answered. Transferred? Lance's gaze darkened, his brow furrowing."To which hospital?" The nurse hesitated, clearly flustered. She was new, and the paperwork seemed to be more than she could handle. "I'm not sure ... It's not listed here. I'll need to run through the database." Lance followed her to the desk, watching her fumble with the mouse, dropping it twice in the process. "I'm sorry ... there's no record of it," she said, finally. "No record?" Lance's voice had a chilling edge. The nurse recoiled slightly, her nerves fraying under the pressure. The man had an aura of authority, and now it was clear that something was seriously wrong. "I don't know why ... but there's nothing here," she stammered, pushing the computer toward him. Lance leaned in, scanning the blank screen. The information was as empty as she'd said. The gardenias in his hand sagged further, their beauty fading.Transferred? And no record of it? Lance didn't have to think twice. He knew exactly who was responsible. Only one person had the power to pull something like this off. It had to be Leon. It was clear to Lance. Leon had to be the one who transferred Addison to another hospital without anyone knowing. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone, found Addison's number, and dialed. One second. Two seconds. Three ... Still no answer. Lance's frustration mounted. He dialed again, then again, but all he got were frustrating beeps. Five minutes passed. His patience had run its course. He was ready to hang up when his phone suddenly buzzed. His heart skipped, hope sparking briefly. He glanced at the screen. It wasn't Addison. It was Virginia. Lance answered, his face unreadable."Lance, where did you go?" "I woke up, and you weren't here. I waited for you, but you never came ... " Virginia's voice was soft, tinged with a lazy morning tone. Lance didn't answer right away. What was he supposed to say? How could he explain that he had rushed to the hospital to see Addison but found nothing? A dry laugh ran through his mind. He thought Virginia would beg for him to go back to her, but instead, her voice bubbled up again. "I waited for you, but you didn't show up, so I asked the staff for something from the kitchen and made something for you! "You have to try it out! "I'm waiting at the hotel!" Her words were bright, full of energy, completely unlike the usual pleading tone he was used to. Lance's chest tightened. He stood outside the hospital room, holding the phone to his ear while in his other hand, the bouquet of gardenias felt heavier.The nurse stood nearby, her eyes occasionally glancing at Lance, taking in the man who seemed to capture every eye in the room. During the call, Lance's gaze dropped to the flowers in his hand. His throat tightened as a shadow crossed his face. It was like he'd made a decision. He stepped forward, placing the flowers on the table with a decisive movement. "Sir ... you don't want these anymore?" The nurse's voice was soft, almost hesitant. She took the bouquet carefully, cradling it in her arms as she caught up with him. Lance didn't react. His face was cold, eyes hidden under lowered lashes, making it impossible to read his thoughts. After a long pause, he spoke. "I don't need them." He couldn't look at them any longer. The longer he held them, the more foolish he felt.