The allergy

Brandy felt a chill crawl down her spine.

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‎“Brandy? Why are you asking about this?” Linda’s voice on the other end of the line sounded puzzled.

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‎“It’s… nothing,” Brandy forced her voice to remain steady. “Just curious…”

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‎“When will you be back? Auntie will cook you a feast!”

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‎“Later, maybe. I’ll call you.”

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‎“Alright, dear. I’ll be waiting for you.”

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‎After hanging up, Brandy collapsed onto the toilet seat, her face drained of color.

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‎She had thought Jose was merely wealthy—but she had never imagined he was this powerful in Elite City.

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‎No.

‎That only meant she had to escape more urgently.

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‎If she could leave the country, Jose would never find her. Her passport would be sent to the airport by her aunt. All she needed to do was escape Regal Garden, then Silvercrest Bay…

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‎But how?

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‎A few days later, during dinner, Brandy sat at the table, staring at the dishes before her. She scooped a small bite of rice, then forced herself to lift her chopsticks toward the vegetable dish. As she brought it closer, the faint scent of seafood struck her nose, sending a wave of terror through her body.

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‎Her hand trembled.

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‎Still, she forced herself to eat it—chewing slowly before swallowing.

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‎The maid nearby watched in astonishment. She’s finally giving in, the maid thought. She hurried out of the dining room and found Daniel.

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‎“Sir, Baron is eating the vegetables!”

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‎Daniel’s expression immediately turned grave. He gestured for the maid to return and keep watch, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

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‎“Mr. Williams, Baron has eaten the food.”

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‎At the top floor of a towering skyscraper, Jose reclined in his black chair, phone pressed to his ear. His dark eyes were sharp, predatory.

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‎“Is there a reaction?”

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‎“Well…” Daniel began, but a loud crash echoed from the dining room. He rushed back instantly.

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‎A bowl lay shattered on the floor. Rice and vegetables were scattered everywhere. Brandy was kneeling, coughing violently. Red rashes bloomed across her exposed arms, spreading at a frightening speed.

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‎“Mr. Williams,” Daniel reported urgently, “she’s reacting.”

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‎Jose’s voice was icy. “Take her to the hospital.”

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‎“Yes, sir.”

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‎Brandy was helped into a car, leaning weakly against the window as the scenery blurred past. Despite the agony tearing through her body, her eyes shone faintly—with hope.

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‎Less than ten minutes later, the rashes had spread to her neck and face, not to mention what was happening beneath her clothes. Her breathing grew labored, as though invisible hands were tightening around her throat. Her brows knit together as her body convulsed against the seat.

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‎She was on the brink of death.

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‎No…

‎I can’t die. Not now. Not when my children are still waiting for me—Emily, Ella, Kenzo, Kelvin…

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‎Before they reached the hospital, Brandy lost consciousness and was rushed straight into the emergency room.

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‎Abigail was stunned when she saw her. In all her years of medical practice, she had never witnessed such a severe allergic reaction. Any later, and the patient would have been lost.

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‎As Jose’s personal physician, Abigail immediately took charge.

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‎The hospital lay silent in the dead of night, the air thick with an unsettling chill. The door to the VIP ward opened soundlessly, and a dark figure approached the bed.

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‎Brandy lay still. The oxygen mask had been removed, her breathing calm and steady. Only faint red marks remained on her pale skin.

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‎Jose stood over her, his shadow engulfing her fragile form, his hands braced on either side of the bed—like a predator looming over trapped prey.

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‎“How does it feel?” he asked coldly.

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‎Brandy didn’t respond. Her eyes were closed, long lashes casting shadows against her cheeks.

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‎“Pity I missed your suffering,” Jose murmured. “But there’s always next time.”

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‎When Brandy slowly regained consciousness, sunlight streamed through the window. Morning.

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‎She inhaled sharply, the scent of antiseptic confirming where she was. Relief washed over her.

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‎She had left Silvercrest Bay.

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‎Brandy sat up and touched the fading red spots on her face. A knock followed, and Abigail entered.

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‎“You’re alright now,” Abigail said gently. “The rash will disappear completely in a few days.”

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‎Brandy looked at her, startled.

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‎“I’m the director of this hospital,” Abigail added, “and Mr. Williams’ personal doctor.”

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‎Brandy’s heart sank.

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‎Even his doctor belonged to his world.

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‎Abigail studied her with curiosity. This was the first woman Jose had ever brought here—escorted by Daniel himself. That alone made Brandy unusual. Now that the swelling had subsided, her beauty was undeniable—delicate, clean, like flawless porcelain.

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‎Standing beside Jose, such a woman naturally invited dangerous assumptions.

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‎“Rest well,” Abigail said. “If you need anything, press the call button.”

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‎“Thank you.”

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‎After Abigail left, Brandy’s expression darkened.

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‎Jose’s people were everywhere. She trusted none of them.

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‎She prayed Jose would never show up.

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‎That would increase her chances of escape.

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‎She had willingly eaten the seafood she feared most—just to create this opportunity. Otherwise, she’d never escape Regal Garden, no matter how desperately she tried.

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‎After lunch, a nurse came to change her IV. An hour and a half later, the nurse returned.

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‎Brandy noticed the nurse’s lowered head—and a cold glint flashed through her eyes.

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‎Ten minutes later, a nurse in uniform and a mask exited the room, disposing of used IV tubing and an empty medicine bottle before heading toward the elevator—skipping the nurse’s station entirely.

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‎Because that nurse wasn’t a nurse at all.

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‎Fully disguised, Brandy stepped into the elevator. Just as the doors were closing, a hand slammed against them.

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‎Her blood ran cold.

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‎“Sorry,” a doctor from another department said as he stepped inside.

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‎Brandy kept her head down, silent. On the third floor, she exited quickly and took the emergency stairs, stripping off the uniform as she descended. She headed straight for the main entrance.

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‎A taxi screeched to a stop.

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‎“Airport,” she said urgently.

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‎As the car sped off, Brandy retrieved her phone from her bra, turned it on, and called Linda.

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‎“Auntie, are you at the airport?”

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‎“Yes—where are you?”

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‎“I’m almost there! Please wait for me!”

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‎She hung up and leaned forward. “I’m sorry—could you drive faster? I’m in a hurry.”

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‎The moment the plan had formed in her mind, she had contacted Linda and instructed her to buy the tickets and wait.

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‎Now, all that remained…

‎was to outrun Jose Williams.

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