A Late Return Beneath Silent Lights
It was almost two or three in the morning.
The night had settled into that strange, hollow quiet where even the city seemed to breathe slower. The streets were nearly empty, washed in pale streetlights and drifting shadows. Somewhere far off, a stray dog barked once… then silence swallowed the sound again.
After Julian D'Aurelius's body had mostly recovered, he finally decided to leave the hospital.
He didn't rush it. He never did. Even now, with danger still lingering in the back of his mind, his movements remained steady—controlled.
He pulled out his phone and called his bodyguard and driver.
"Come to the hospital entrance," he said calmly. "I'm leaving."
No extra words. No explanation.
That was enough.
Within minutes, a black luxury car rolled quietly into the hospital driveway, headlights cutting through the dim air. The driver stepped out immediately, opening the rear door with practiced respect.
"Young Master," he greeted softly.
