Billionaire Lawyer's Secretary - Chapter 40: Chapter 40

Elara had cried herself to sleep, lost in some nightmare. Her face was pale and drawn, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks, her brow pinched with distress.
Adrian frowned. After hanging Victor's IV bag, he took a seat beside Elara and pressed the call button.
One of her IV bags had long since run dry, unnoticed, the tube now tinged with backflowing blood. It was hard to reconcile this fragile figure with the woman who'd faced him down just that afternoon, fierce and full of life.
When the nurse arrived, she assumed Victor needed his IV changed—after all, he was the one who had come with Adrian.
But Adrian merely flicked a glance at Elara. "Hers is done."
The nurse looked up, noticing the empty IV bag. Without a word, she replaced it with a fresh saline one, adjusted Elara's needle—which had bled slightly—and then set up a new IV for Victor.
Victor exhaled through his nose, a quiet, humorless sound escaping him.
Elara was barely awake when her phone buzzed. Without opening her eyes, she pulled it from her coat pocket with her left hand and silenced the call with a clumsy press. Then she shifted slightly and sank back into sleep.
The phone vibrated again. Adrian's gaze flicked to the caller ID—Alex. He quickly looked away, his face unreadable.
Elara hung up a second time. When it rang a third time, she finally opened her eyes, checked the screen, and turned the phone off.
She looked up at the IV bag. A second one was already hanging in place. 'The nurses here are really nice—they changed it without me even noticing,' she thought.
Just as she was about to close her eyes again, Victor's voice cut through the quiet. "Elara? What's wrong?"
Her eyes snapped open at the voice. Turning her head, she found Adrian and Victor crammed into the space beside her—an absurd sight when half the waiting room chairs stood empty.
Though surprised, she didn't dwell on it. Her voice came out hoarse from crying. "Stomach inflammation," she murmured, leaning back to rest.
Victor had prepared his response, waiting for her to ask about his condition. When the question never came, he added after a beat, "Funny coincidence. My stomach's acting up too."
Elara simply stared at him, wordless.
Noticing her mood, Victor quieted down and turned his attention to the movie rerun playing on the television.
Adrian cut in. "Did you have a fight with your boyfriend?"
Elara's eyelids fluttered, but she didn't answer.
Adrian's lips curled into a sneer. "You actually convinced me to help you secure a lawyer this morning, and now your so-called boyfriend leaves you here alone for an IV? How classless."
Elara cracked her eyes open just enough to look at him. "He's not my boyfriend."
Adrian's face showed a brief, unreadable expression before he asked pointedly, "Not your boyfriend? So you broke up?"
All Elara wanted was peace and quiet. "Since when do you care about my personal life, Mr. Hartley?" she shot back irritably.
Adrian chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't care, but watching you like this is actually amusing. You broke up? Ms. Langton, you're too sensitive, crying yourself sick over it."
Victor kept his expression neutral, though privately he thought Adrian's attitude would get him nowhere with Elara.
Elara's eyes flashed. "What business is it of yours if I cry myself sick over it? It's not like I'm using your insurance."
She ripped out the IV, wincing as a bead of blood surfaced. Snatching her bag, she marched out, ignoring both of them.
The abandoned IV needle swayed, fluid still dripping from its tip. Adrian's smirk vanished, his eyes narrowing. Without a second thought, he rose and followed.
"Hey!" Victor called after him. "Where are you going?"
Adrian paused mid-stride but didn't turn. "Have Charles keep you company."
"Charles?" Victor sputtered. "He's completely wasted. How's he supposed to keep me company?" He jabbed a finger toward the door. "This is your doing. You drove Elara away and now I'm left in this mess."
"Sort it out yourself," Adrian said coldly. "You've got plenty of girls to choose from. Pick one." He continued walking, leaving Victor gaping after him.
Victor had been planning to ask Ruby to join them now that Elara was here. But thanks to Adrian, everything had gone sideways.
Elara stood shivering on the curb, attempting to flag down a taxi. The bitter cold pierced through her coat, so harsh that she barely registered the sting in her hand anymore.
A black McLaren pulled alongside her, its tinted window sliding down soundlessly, revealing Adrian's face.
"Get in." Adrian's tone carried strained politeness.
Elara wanted some solitude, not his sudden clinginess. "I appreciate the offer, Mr. Hartley," she said evenly, "but I'll manage my own ride."
"Victor's asked me to. Don't make his kindness go to waste," he said.
Victor, of course, had no idea Adrian was using his name as an excuse to play the good Samaritan.
"That's very kind of him." Elara took two deliberate steps backward. "Do give him my thanks." She turned toward the taxi lane, shoulders hunched against the wind.
Adrian's patience snapped. The car door flew open with a sharp bang, and before Elara could react, he was beside her. In one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly from the pavement.
"Are you insane?" Her protest vanished into the winter air as he placed her in the leather seat, buckling the belt with mechanical precision before she could react.
Elara nearly laughed at the absurdity. But the cold had seeped into her bones. Right now, all that mattered was getting home, soaking in a hot bath, and collapsing into bed. Arguing with him suddenly didn't seem worth the effort.
She straightened in her seat and recited her address the moment he settled behind the wheel. "165 Glory Street, Flowery Apartments. Thank you, Mr. Hartley."
Adrian offered no reply. The engine growled to life instead.
The black McLaren roared to life in the quiet morning. Its powerful engine growled as the car sped down the empty street, quickly disappearing into the distance.
Elara had read about this model in car magazines. Only 399 were ever made, each worth more than six million dollars. Its 1,275-horsepower engine generated incredible pulling power, launching it from 0 to 60 mph in under three seconds, faster than almost any other production car.
The sleeping city blurred past as the dash hit 90 mph, that sweet spot where excitement dances with recklessness.
Elara stared straight ahead, her face calm and still. The world rushed by outside as the engine roared.
Inside, she felt something wild break free—something that had been trapped too long. Tears ran quietly down her cheeks the whole way.
An hour later, the black McLaren glided to a halt at 165 Glory Street, pausing before the entrance to Flowery Apartments.
"Feeling better?" Adrian kept his voice deliberately light. He understood how the adrenaline rush from high-speed driving could chase away dark moods. Though he'd never admit it, he found himself waiting for her answer.
Elara silently released her seatbelt. "Thanks," she murmured, already reaching for the door handle.
"Should I tell Eric to drop his father's case?" Adrian studied her face as he asked.
For a moment, Elara looked genuinely puzzled. Then realization dawned—he was defending her honor.
Anchor Law Firm had only taken Alex's father's case as a favor to Elara. Now that Alex had hurt her, Adrian saw absolutely no obligation to show consideration to some stranger.
"No," she said quietly. "Please ask Mr. Collins to work even harder on that case. Alex's father is a good man who doesn't deserve this trouble."
Adrian's mouth twisted in derision. "Still not over him, I see."
Elara offered no response. She simply exited the car and walked toward the apartment building, her thoughts churning.
Adrian felt no urgency to leave. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. For the next hour, he sat perfectly still, watching the dawn light slowly burn away the mist.
Ruby walked into the hospital, dark circles under her tired eyes. She carried a thermos of hot milk and homemade sandwiches, stopping at the infusion room door to look for Elara. Instead, she spotted Victor alone in the corner, slouched in his seat.
"You said Elara was here for an IV," she said, walking up to him.
Victor hesitated. He couldn't admit Adrian had made Elara storm out, then gone after her. "She finished early," he said, avoiding her gaze. "Adrian took her home."
Ruby frowned at the wasted trip. "I see," she said quietly, turning to leave.
"Wait, you're not staying?" Victor called out.
She pulled her coat tighter. "Why would I? It's freezing in here at this hour."
"But I'm still on an IV," Victor said, lifting his arm slightly. "I'm not feeling well either."
"Feel better," she said, already walking away.
Alone with his nearly-empty IV bag, Victor sighed and shook his head.