登入A word for Dreston, please.
By the time Dreston arrived at the hospital, the private emergency wing was already fully secured for transfer operations. The atmosphere inside felt controlled. Clinical and precise. Security personnel occupied nearly every visible position around the restricted floor. No unnecessary movement around. No unauthorized access too. Everything had already been locked down hours ago. The moment Dreston stepped out of the elevator, multiple staff members immediately straightened. Several doctors and legal administrators were already waiting nearby with prepared files and digital tablets. Clearly expecting him. “Good morning, Mr. Tremont.” Dreston gave only a brief nod before walking directly toward the private consultation area. He did not waste time with greetings. Inside the secured medical office, several documents had already been arranged neatly across the conference table. The lead physician stood first. “We stabilized her condition overnight,” he explained carefully. “She remain
Morning arrived quietly over the Tremont mansion. Soft sunlight filtered through the tall kitchen windows while the faint, comforting scent of fresh coffee and toasted bread lingered gently in the air. For the first time in days, the atmosphere inside the house felt calm. Not entirely peaceful, but calmer. It was a fragile pocket of stillness amid the gathering storm. Cassienne stood near the kitchen island, pouring steaming tea into a cup with careful movements, while Dreston sat beside her in a perfect grey tailored suit. The exhaustion from the previous day still remained visible on him — the sleepless night, the emotional pressure, the unrelenting tension. None of it had disappeared overnight. But somehow, he looked more active this morning. And Cassienne knew exactly why. Because last night, for once, he allowed himself to stop carrying everything alone. He let her see him—truly see him in his most vulnerable, tired, and human way. Dreston lowered his eyes briefly toward the
Cassienne rested her chin lightly against his shoulder. “That’s what scares you the most.” “Yes.” The answer came immediately. Honestly. Dreston finally turned his head slightly toward her. “I know how to fight enemies I can see.” Cassienne’s fingers moved through his wet hair again slowly. “But not invisible ones.” Dreston let out a humorless breath. “Exactly.” Silence settled between them afterward. But it no longer felt heavy. Not like before. Cassienne eventually rinsed the shampoo from his hair carefully before speaking again. “You don’t have to carry every disaster alone.” Dreston’s eyes lowered slightly. “I’m supposed to protect everyone.” “And who protects you?” That question lingered quietly in the warm air between them. Dreston did not answer immediately. Because honestly, he did not know. For most of his life, he had simply learned to endure pressure silently. To carry responsibility without complaint. To fix problems before they reach anyone else. But somewher
For a long moment after Dreston Tremont whispered those words against her stomach, neither of them moved. The rain continued falling softly outside the mansion, a gentle rhythm against the windows that somehow made the silence inside feel even more intimate. The lights in the living room remained dim and warm, casting a golden glow across the space. And in that quiet, suspended moment, Cassienne Rhodes finally understood something that unsettled her deeply. Dreston was exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that sleep could fix. Not ordinary work exhaustion. Not even the usual stress of running a global empire. This was the exhaustion of a man who had spent an entire day terrified — bone-deep, soul-weary terror that had left him hollowed out and raw. Slowly, Cassienne slid her fingers deeper into his hair, her touch gentle and patient, massaging his scalp with tender care. Dreston closed his eyes immediately. That alone told her how badly he needed this — how desperately he’d been
Marianne’s eyes widened slightly. Harold slowly lifted his head. Dreston continued calmly, leaving nothing out. “She discovered information connected to the old lab incident.” That word again. ‘The lab.’ Harold’s fingers tightened slightly against his knees. The movement was small. Almost invisible. But Dreston noticed it immediately. Still, he said nothing. Not yet. Dreston explained everything slowly afterward. Carefully. Without dramatizing anything. Tina’s threats, the emotional instability, the pressure, the fake engagement, the public scandals, and Cassienne’s attack. The gala incident. Tonight’s deliberate accident. Every truth. At several points, Marianne quietly covered her mouth while fresh tears rolled down her cheeks again. Because she truly had not known. Not the full extent of it. “She was never like this before,” she whispered painfully. “We thought she was simply obsessed with status… with you. We never imagined…” Dreston believed her. Because honestly, he no l
The private emergency floor of the hospital was entirely quiet by the time midnight settled heavily over Southvale. It was simply exhausted — drained of all earlier chaos and reduced to a tense, watchful stillness filled with low voices, distant footsteps, and the constant, mechanical humming of hospital machines behind closed doors. Outside the ICU unit, armed security personnel remained stationed at every entrance and exit, their presence imposing and unyielding. No visitors. No unauthorized movement. No mistakes. At the far end of the long corridor, Dreston Tremont stood near the large glass window overlooking the sprawling city lights below. The lights of Southvale stretched endlessly beneath the dark sky, beautiful and alive with their usual energy. Yet tonight, none of it comforted him. The view that once represented his empire now felt distant and indifferent. His tie had been removed hours ago and lay forgotten somewhere. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, and his s
The bedroom was bathed in the soft, golden hues of dawn. Sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains like gentle fingers, tracing patterns across the rumpled white sheets. Cassienne lay nestled in the warmth of the bed, her body still lax from the deep, restorative sleep that had claimed her aft
The intercom on Dreston’s desk buzzed softly. He glanced at the panel and pressed the button. “Yes?” Cassienne’s voice came through, calm but slightly distracted. “My mother is at your parents’ place. Abigail insisted she stay the night there. She says they have a lot to catch up on.” Dreston lea
The sliding glass doors parted. And Emily Rhodes stepped into the arrival hall with the slow confidence of a woman who had fought her way back to herself. For a second, she simply stood there, taking everything in. The lights. The people. The movements. The freedom of being out in the world witho
Cassienne felt her head pounding before she even opened her eyes. The pain was sharp and heavy, as if someone was hitting a drum inside her skull. She winced and slowly lifted a hand to her forehead. Her mouth was dry, and her body felt weak. When she finally forced her eyes open, she blinked seve







