Flash Marriage To The Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Early in the morning, Nelson rose an hour ahead of schedule and drove to the hospital gate.
At 7 AM sharp, the hospital gate opened, and doctors and nurses streamed in for their shifts.
Nelson stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Storming into the hospital with a darkened expression, he marched straight to Hallie's office.
He flung the door open without knocking, ready to unleash his frustration, only to find the room empty.
"Mr. Blair?" A female voice called out.
Nelson turned to meet Clarissa's confused gaze.
Clarissa scanned him up and down. "Are you here for Hallie? She went to Kerriston with the rescue team... Didn't she tell you?"
"She went to Kerriston?" Nelson's frown deepened.
"Yes." Clarissa nodded, worry etched on her face. "Raymond tried to dissuade her, but that's where she grew up. She volunteered to go.
"Who knows what safety risks there are after the earthquake? I've called her the past few days many times, either no answer or no signal. I want to know how she's doing."
Nelson's expression grew progressively darker.
He should have known it.
Kerriston was adjacent to Callopston, a day-and-night drive away. Given that such a massive earthquake had struck suddenly, doctors in Callopston would surely rush to its rescue.
Clarissa saw his ignorance and felt a surge of indignation.
"Hallie is your wife anyway, yet you don't even know where she is? Nelson, if you have feelings for another woman, divorce her as soon as you can and stop wasting her time."
Nelson frowned but said nothing, brushing past Clarissa and storming out of the hospital.
Now that he knew where Hallie had gone, there was no need to care—at least, that's what he told himself.
He resumed his rigid routine: waking up to work and returning home after work.
Yet somehow, project documents seemed to taunt him these past two days. Every page held flaws.
"Take this back and redo it. You claim to be the top planning team, yet you deliver this kind of rubbish?" he snarled, slamming the folder onto the conference table.
The plastic cover cracked against the mahogany table, echoing through the room.
Department heads seated below kept their eyes down, too terrified to speak.
"Well, since when did you get so short-tempered?" a drawling voice sounded from the doorway.
Peterson leaned against the frame, looking helpless.
"All of you, get out." Nelson narrowed his eyes, scanning the people present. His deep gaze was utterly oppressive, like a whirlpool that sucked all the oxygen from the air.
Those department heads bolted from the conference room as if running for their lives.
Peterson stepped forward slowly, picked up the project plan tossed onto the table, and frowned in sudden confusion as he examined it.
"This is a solid proposal. These are minor issues that won't impact the overall picture."
Nelson's sour expression deepened. "By tolerating their carelessness, I'm enabling this incompetence."
"Incompetence?" Peterson arched a brow, clearly skeptical.
The Blair Group had recruited Hernland's top talents, and its planning team was the crème de la crème—so elite that even Peterson couldn't poach them. Yet Nelson was dismissing them as incompetent. Seriously?
After all, no plan was perfect. Adjustments were always needed during implementation.
Peterson had come to the company because a senior executive hinted Nelson had been in a foul mood lately, displeased with everything.
Nelson, who had been strict in his work, was now in a foul mood, which had turned the company into a veritable purgatory. The hardest hit were those department heads, who were subjected to both mental and physical torture.
The executive had subtly asked Peterson to come to the company to check on Nelson.
Initially, Peterson assumed that a workaholic like Nelson had gone mad because his subordinates had made major mistakes, causing losses to the company.
But upon review, he found Blair Group companies thriving, much to his envy.
He thought, 'If it is not work, then personal life?'
Nelson's life was all work. His personal affairs were an open book.
Only three people mattered: Scott, the recently returned Regina, and Hallie, who shared his home.
Though Scott was in poor health, his condition was currently stable. Regina stayed in the villa Nelson had bought for her, spending her days shopping for jewelry, dresses, and cosmetics, and indulging in beauty treatments. She appeared to be doing well.
But Hallie, who'd left for Kerriston's rescue two days ago, remained unreachable.
And most crucially, the earthquake's damage to Kerriston's communication network has left the hospital unable to contact Hallie thus far. Hallie departed without a word to Nelson.
Peterson wondered, 'Nelson is so irritable. Does it come from anger, longing, or worry? It's hard to tell for sure now.'
He decided to prod. "Tell me," he began, feigning ignorance, "why have you been so short-tempered these past two days? Did something happen?"
"Nothing." Nelson frowned, flipping a report page.
Well, anger it is.' Peterson raised an eyebrow secretly, settling beside him.
"By the way, did you hear about Kerriston's quake? Nearby cities sent aid. Did Hallie go?"
"Since when does her whereabouts concern me?" Nelson shot him a narrowed look. "Why? Are you worried about her?"
"Of course I am worried." Peterson sat up abruptly, his expression grave.
"You know what. I've seen the online footage. The earthquake's aftermath is brutal. Even relief doctors aren't safe, let alone the victims. With communication cut off and supplies scarce, they're likely starving and exhausted. Even a tough person would break, not to mention a woman."