Chapter 71 Chapter 71: Where Rich Families Hide Their Crises

Chapter 71 Chapter 71: Where Rich Families Hide Their Crises

The SUV slowed again as it turned sharply around the side of the hospital building, leaving behind the noise and flashing cameras gathered near the front entrance. The road beneath us changed from smooth pavement to rough concrete, the sound echoing faintly beneath the vehicle as tall gray walls rose around us. This part of the hospital looked completely different from the polished front lobby meant for wealthy visitors and public appearances. The back entrance was colder, quieter, hidden away from the city like something the hospital preferred no one to see. Large delivery doors stood nearby beside rows of service elevators and metal carts stacked with supplies. Even the air smelled different here—less like perfume and polished marble, more like disinfectant, rainwater, and exhaustion.
The SUV finally came to a smooth stop beneath a covered loading area shielded from public view. Before anyone inside could move, several security guards stepped forward immediately, scanning the surroundings. A second later, one of them opened the SUV door and cold air rushed inside instantly, carrying the distant sound of ambulance sirens somewhere beyond the building. Elara adjusted her sunglasses before stepping out first, every movement elegant despite the irritation still lingering in her expression. Nicholus climbed out after her far less gracefully, muttering something under his breath about hospitals being “the most depressing places on earth.” I stepped out last, smoothing my uniform instinctively as my shoes touched the cold concrete ground.
The hospital staff waiting near the entrance straightened the second they recognized Elara. A nurse holding a clipboard immediately lowered her gaze respectfully while another staff member stepped aside to clear the path ahead of us. Even through the quiet tension of the morning, it was obvious people here knew exactly who the Varya family was. Wealth moved through places differently. It bent rooms around itself. Cleared hallways. Lowered voices. Changed the way people looked at you. I stayed half a step behind Elara as we approached the entrance, trying to make myself smaller against the sharp brightness of the fluorescent lights spilling from inside.
“Which floor?” Elara asked calmly as one of the hospital coordinators hurried toward us.
“Private recovery wing, Miss Varya,” the woman answered quickly. “Your grandfather has already been transferred from emergency observation. The doctors are with him now, but they said the family may visit shortly.” Her voice carried that same careful politeness everyone seemed to use around powerful families. “Mr. Richmond Draven and Mr. Auren Draven haven’t arrived yet, but security informed us they should be here soon.”
I saw the smallest change in Elara’s posture at the mention of Auren’s name. Tiny. Almost invisible. But beside her, Nicholus noticed it immediately. Of course he did. He smirked faintly while adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Amazing,” he murmured lazily. “You hear the word Auren and suddenly you stop looking homicidal.” Elara shot him a sharp glare without slowing her steps. “One more comment,” she warned coldly, “and I’ll leave you here alone with the reporters.” Nicholus only grinned wider. “See? That right there. Very future-wife behavior.”
The elevator ride upstairs felt strangely tense despite the silence. The mirrored walls reflected all of us back too clearly—Elara standing perfectly composed near the center, Nicholus leaning against the railing with lazy amusement, and me standing quietly near the corner trying not to feel out of place among them. The soft hum of the elevator filled the silence while floor numbers lit up one by one above the doors. Somewhere deep in the hospital, machines beeped steadily behind closed walls, and every sound seemed sharper here, more fragile somehow. Hospitals always carried a strange feeling, like entire lives could change behind any door at any moment.
When the elevator finally opened onto the private recovery floor, the atmosphere shifted again. Thick carpets muted our footsteps as we stepped into a long quiet hallway lined with dark wood paneling and soft golden lights instead of harsh white fluorescent ones. Large windows overlooked the city skyline beyond the hospital grounds, and expensive artwork decorated the walls in careful attempts to make the place feel less clinical. But no amount of luxury could completely erase the smell of medicine lingering beneath the polished surface. At the far end of the corridor, several members of the Varya security team already stood guard outside a private hospital suite, their presence making the entire floor feel less like a hospital and more like guarded territory.
 They straightened the moment they saw Elara approaching. One of them opened the waiting room door for us without a word. Inside, the room was quiet and dim compared to the hallway outside, furnished with expensive leather chairs and a coffee table cluttered with untouched magazines and half-empty cups of coffee that had long gone cold. The curtains beside the windows remained partially closed, muting the gray morning light spilling in from outside. Everything about the room felt temporary, exhausted, like people had spent the entire night waiting for bad news.
Elara didn’t sit down. She remained standing near the center of the room, arms crossed tightly as she stared toward the closed hospital door leading to her grandfather’s suite. Nicholus dropped lazily into one of the leather chairs  with a dramatic sigh. “Hospitals are depressing,” he muttered under his breath while loosening his tie again. “Everything smells like fear and expired coffee.” His voice echoed softly through the quiet room. Elara shot him an irritated look immediately. “Can you behave seriously for at least ten minutes?” she snapped quietly. “We’re not here for entertainment.” Nicholus lifted both hands in surrender. “I am being serious. I seriously hate hospitals.”
Before Elara could answer him again, the hospital room door finally opened. All three of us looked up immediately as an older doctor stepped out, removing his glasses while speaking quietly with one of the nurses behind him. His tired expression softened slightly the moment he noticed Elara waiting. “Miss Varya,” he greeted politely, walking toward us. Elara moved forward instantly. “How is he?” she asked before he could say anything else. Despite her calm tone, urgency slipped through the words. “Did he wake up?”
The doctor nodded reassuringly. “Yes. He’s awake now, and his condition is stable.” Relief loosened something small in the room immediately, though the tension didn’t disappear completely. “The fall caused a concussion and some bruising, but thankfully there’s no major internal damage,” he continued carefully. “He’s still weak, and we don’t want him overstimulated, but the danger has passed.” Elara exhaled slowly through her nose, her expression tightening with restrained relief rather than emotion. Beside me, Nicholus leaned back deeper into his chair. “See?” he muttered lightly. “Told you the old man was too stubborn to die from one bathroom floor.”
The doctor gave Nicholus a brief look before continuing professionally. “You may visit him now if you’d like,” he said, turning back toward Elara. “But only one person at a time for now. He needs rest, and too many visitors could exhaust him.” Elara nodded immediately without hesitation. “Of course.” Then she glanced back toward us, already taking control of the situation again. “You two wait here,” she instructed calmly. “I’ll go first.”
Nicholus looked mildly offended. “Wow. Not even pretending to give me the option?” he asked dryly. Elara barely looked at him. “You’d annoy him within thirty seconds.” He considered that for a moment before shrugging lazily. “Fair point.” Then his gaze shifted toward me briefly, amusement flickering faintly across his face. “Guess we’re abandoned together, Sera.”
I lowered my eyes quickly while Elara moved toward the hospital room door without another word. The moment her hand touched the handle, something in her expression changed — not softer exactly, but quieter, more controlled. Like she was preparing herself before stepping inside. Then the door opened slowly, and she disappeared into the room alone.
The waiting room fell strangely quiet after Elara disappeared inside her grandfather’s hospital suite. The soft click of the door shutting behind her seemed to settle heavily over the room, leaving only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of hospital carts rolling through the hallway outside. I stayed seated near the edge of the leather chair, hands folded tightly in my lap, unsure what I was supposed to do now. Across from me, Nicholus slouched carelessly into the couch like he belonged anywhere except a hospital, one arm stretched across the backrest while he stared up at the ceiling with obvious boredom already creeping across his face.
After several long seconds of silence, he suddenly sat forward with a dramatic groan. “Alright,” he announced, rubbing both hands over his face. “If I stay in this room another ten minutes, I’m going to lose my mind.” His sunglasses rested pushed up into his hair now, revealing tired eyes that still somehow carried amusement even this early in the morning. He looked toward me suddenly. “Coffee.”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
“Coffee,” he repeated slowly, like the answer should have been obvious. “There’s a café downstairs near the private lobby. And unless this hospital somehow serves alcohol too, caffeine is the only thing standing between me and complete emotional collapse.” He stood from the couch smoothly, adjusting the sleeves of his black shirt before nodding toward the door. “Come on.”
My eyes widened immediately. “Oh— no, that’s alright,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I should stay here in case Miss Elara needs something.” The excuse came out automatically, though honestly the idea of leaving with Nicholus anywhere alone made me nervous in ways I couldn’t properly explain. He was unpredictable. Too comfortable. Too observant. And somehow always speaking like every conversation was secretly entertaining him.
Nicholus stared at me for a second before laughing softly under his breath. “Sera,” he said patiently, “Elara is currently inside having an emotional family reunion with a seventy-year-old billionaire who probably still insults people from his hospital bed. She is not going to suddenly run out screaming because she can’t find you.” He walked closer before lowering his voice dramatically. “Meanwhile, I’m one headache away from dying.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “Do you really want that guilt on your conscience?”
Despite myself, I almost smiled. “Mr. Nicholus—”
“Nope,” he interrupted immediately, already moving toward the door. “You’re coming.”
“I really don’t think I should—”
“You absolutely should.” He opened the waiting room door and looked back at me expectantly. “Besides, if I go alone, there’s a strong possibility I’ll flirt with the nurse making my coffee out of boredom and accidentally create another family scandal.” His mouth curved slightly when he noticed my horrified expression. “See? I’m protecting the family reputation. Technically this makes me responsible.”
I hesitated too long, and he noticed instantly. Of course he did. “Sera,” he said again, softer this time but still teasing, “you look like I’m asking you to help bury a body instead of walk downstairs for coffee.” He tilted his head slightly. “Relax. I promise not to kidnap you. Hospitals have too many security cameras.”
A helpless breath escaped me before I slowly stood from the chair. “Fine,” I muttered quietly. “Just coffee.”
Nicholus grinned immediately like he had won something important. “See? That wasn’t so difficult.” Then, before I could change my mind, he placed one hand lightly against the middle of my back and guided me out into the hallway beside him. “Come on, sweetheart,” he said lazily as we started toward the elevators. “Let’s go survive this nightmare together.”