Chapter 18- Jenny and Jake
Saint Regalia Private Medical Hospital, Northeast Europe.
Set against the wide landmass, the hospital looked more like a luxury resort than a medical facility. Black sedans and quiet electric cars lined the private driveway, guarded by men in suits who didn't smile.
The glass entrance slid open without a sound.
Inside, the temperature shifted—cool, controlled. The scent of sterile air replaced the faint trace of pine from outside. Marble floors stretched ahead, spotless.
A concierge desk stood where most hospitals had a nurse's station, staffed by people who looked more like hotel managers.
Past them, the corridors were wide and quiet. Nurses moved quickly but without haste. Every wall, every surface, was designed to go unnoticed—muted tones, soft lights, nothing that might stir anxiety in a patient.
Outside the hospital's doors, a Bugatti skidded to a halt, its tires screeching lightly as it came to a stop—drawing curious gazes from nurses and patients alike.
"Isn't that—?" One of the nurses began, frowning. She glanced toward the car, confused. Hospital regulations strictly prohibited vehicles like that from pulling up to the front entrance. Such arrivals were rerouted to the back gate.
But her voice faltered as her colleague nudged her with an elbow.
"Shh. Don't you know that's the dean's son?" the older nurse whispered, a note of warning in her voice. She'd been working here longer—and knew better. The hospital belonged to the very man whose son had just stepped out of that Bugatti.
He emerged with effortless confidence. Loose white shirt, matching pants. His gaze casually turned toward the opposite side—where a young woman stepped out as well, her tight, revealing dress and short skirt turning heads.