Chapter 217 He Said He Doesn't Know You

Chapter 217 He Said He Doesn't Know You

Sloane's POV

I put aside my pride and usual coldness, looking at them almost pleadingly. "Please, just let him know I'm here. I made his favorite vegetable soup. I just want to see him for a moment, to make sure he's okay. Please."

The bodyguards exchanged glances. Perhaps seeing the genuine desperation in my eyes, one of them frowned, turned around, and pushed the door open to go inside.

Every second in that hallway felt infinitely long.

Through the glass, I tried to see what was happening inside, but my view was completely blocked by heavy curtains.

In less than a minute, the bodyguard came back out.

He returned to his position, looked at me with eyes devoid of any sympathy, and coldly said, "Mr. Montclair says he doesn't know any Sloane. He's very tired right now and doesn't want to see anyone. Please leave immediately."

I didn't believe it.

Even if he'd forgotten the past six months, even if his memory of me was stuck at the moment of our divorce, he couldn't possibly treat me with such coldness. He loved me so much—how could he bear not to see me?

Frantically, I pulled out my phone from my bag and with trembling fingers dialed the number I knew by heart.

The phone only rang twice before being ruthlessly hung up.

Unwilling to give up, I called again.

"Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently on another call..."

The cold mechanical voice echoed in the hallway, over and over.

I'd been blocked.

The man who used to answer my calls within three seconds no matter what important meeting he was in, the man who shared his longing with me every night from Berlin across a screen, had mercilessly added me to his blacklist.

Overwhelming loss and suffocating heartache instantly drowned me.

I stared blankly at my phone screen as tears finally fell without warning, blurring my vision.

"Lady Sloane, please leave. Don't disturb Mr. Montclair's rest here." The bodyguard's cold dismissal came again.

Like a puppet drained of its soul, I turned around numbly. The thermos in my hand became unbearably heavy, weighing down my arm so much I could barely lift it.

I don't know how I managed to move my legs. With each step, my chest felt like it was being torn apart.

I walked toward the elevator in a daze and pressed the down button.

"Ding—"

The elevator doors slowly slid open.

I looked up, and through my tear-blurred eyes, I saw who was standing inside.

Belle Valden.

She wore an extremely elegant Chanel haute couture suit, her makeup flawless without a single imperfection, carrying several bags printed with luxury supplement brand logos.

Her glamorous appearance formed a stark, brutal contrast with my haggard face and red, swollen eyes.

Belle's gaze swept over my thermos, the contempt in her eyes practically overflowing.

A victorious smile curved her lips as she slightly raised her chin, seemingly about to offer some mocking words.

But I didn't give her the chance.

I didn't spare her even an extra glance, treating her like thin air as I walked straight past her into the elevator with an expressionless face.

The moment we passed each other, I pressed the close button.

The elevator doors slowly closed in front of Belle's shocked and annoyed face, completely shutting out her disgusting expression.

Back at St. Grace Hospital, I sat at my desk in the neurosurgery department like a wandering ghost who'd lost her soul.

The medical records on the computer screen became a blur of code. A nurse handed me a confirmation form, and I held my pen suspended in mid-air, unable to sign my name.

"Sloane." A steady voice pulled me back to reality.

Professor Brandon was standing by my desk, though I hadn't noticed when he arrived.

He glanced down at my hand frozen in mid-air, then at my bloodshot eyes and pale face, his brow furrowing tightly.

"In your current state, you absolutely cannot enter an operating room." The professor's tone was stern yet tinged with a sigh. He reached out and took the pen from my hand. "When a doctor's hand shakes, it's irresponsible to life itself. I heard about Jared, but you must take care of yourself first. Go home and rest. I'm giving you half a day off."

I opened my mouth, wanting to argue that I could still manage, but found my throat so dry I couldn't make a sound.

In the end, I could only nod bitterly, take off my white coat, and leave the hospital like a walking corpse.

Driving back to my newly purchased villa, I spotted a familiar beige sedan parked outside the ornate iron gate from a distance.

Harrison, wearing a camel-colored long coat, stood waiting for me in the cold autumn wind.

Seeing my car approach, he immediately came forward. His usually gentle, calm eyes now held deep, suppressed concern.

"Harrison? What are you doing here?" I forced myself to perk up as I pushed open the car door.

"I'm worried about you." Harrison looked at my haggard face, his brow furrowing, his tone more serious than ever. "Sloane, Jared's attack is definitely not simple. The waters within the Rex family run too deep. If Valentin's people dared to strike like this, they might very well come after you too. You living here alone makes you too obvious a target."

He paused, his eyes becoming earnest and sincere. "Move to my place. My security system is independent and outside their line of sight. They won't dare make a move. At least until you're absolutely safe, let me take care of you."

Hearing his suggestion, warmth filled my heart, but my mind uncontrollably flashed to Jared's stern, jealous face.

That man would possessively pull me into his arms to claim his territory even if he saw Harrison talking to me for just a few extra words.

If he knew I'd moved into another man's house, he'd probably be angry enough to tear the roof off.

Thinking of this, I forced a smile, a trace of bitter tenderness crossing my eyes.

"Thank you, Harrison, but I'm safe here. Jared personally set up the security system." I looked at him, my tone gentle but firm with finality, declining his kindness. "Besides... I don't want to upset him or cause you trouble. If Valentin really has his eyes on me, being connected to you would only drag you down too."

Harrison stared at me for a few seconds, a flash of disappointment in his eyes.

He knew my stubbornness, and he knew the boundary in my heart that belonged to Jared was unbreakable.

Finally, he could only compromise helplessly, sighing. "Alright, I won't force you, but you must promise me to be careful about everything. If anything seems wrong, call me immediately."

After seeing Harrison off, I returned to the empty villa.

I'd just thrown myself onto the sofa and hadn't even closed my eyes to catch my breath when Professor Brandon's call came through.