Beyond The Divorce - Season 3 Episode 93

My heart raced as I narrowed my eyes. I pushed Stella aside, not paying attention to her stumbling a few steps away. My sole focus was reaching the emergency room, but dark–clad bodyguards blocked my way.

I saw a doctor speaking with Celine, but I couldn’t make out their words. The doctor returned to the emergency room in less than two minutes, and I could not help but notice the chilling amount of blood

staining his gloves.

My gaze remained fixed on Celine. Her expression revealed nothing about the nature of the news,

whether it was good or bad.

She stayed in that dazed state before finally saying something to Kenzie, who was behind her. Stella took this opportunity to pass by me and enter the room.

Stella reached out and grabbed Celine’s arm as if inquiring about something. Celine’s cold eyes met Stella’s, and she immediately lowered her head.

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“What’s his condition? Let go of me!” I roared, far from composed.

Celine’s eyes met mine, deep and merciless. She then said something to Kenzie and walked out.

1 froze in place, watching her and her entourage pass by me.

Suddenly, she stopped and shot me a cold glare. She spat, “Thanks to you, he’s not dead!”

Then she lifted her head high and walked away. Carol quickly ran over to me.

“Chlo…” Her voice was anxious.

I must have looked terrible.

I just couldn’t understand Celine’s meaning. What did she mean by “not dead?” Did she hope he would

die?

Her callousness towards her own nephew was shocking.

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I stared at the closed door, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness. The memories of our recent encounter still lingered, but now Atlas was facing a life–and–death situation.

Cho: please don’t be like this. We need to find out how Mr. Atlas is doing.” Carol whispered by my side. We’ll come up with a plan. You have to hold yourself together. Everyone is watching closely. Let’s go back and strategize

Theard the sound of the door being opened from Inside

I was startled, quickly standing up and rushing to the door.

Sure enough, a nurse emerged from the room. I grabbed her in desperation. “Excuse me, how is the person inside? Mr. Atlas, from the car accident. How is he? What are his injuries?”

She looked at me in fear. “What are you doing? I don’t know…”

“How can you not know? Mr. Atlas, from the car accident! What’s his condition?” I held on, desperate for

answers.

“Let go of me! I’m sorry, I don’t know. Let go!” The nurse shook off my hand forcefully, glaring at me.

She muttered, “Lunatic!”

Then she straightened herself and quickly left, disappearing from my sight.

I turned around, pushing the door in despair. Surprisingly, it swung open at my push, leaving me stunned.

The next second, I rushed inside without a second thought.