The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 238

At 11:00 PM, San Francisco International Airport.

Sebastian's private jet had barely touched the tarmac, the stairs still locking into place, before he was rushing down the steps. Seth was already waiting on the runaway. Seeing his boss, he stepped forward immediately.

"Mr. Thorne," Seth's expression was far grimmer than it had been on the phone. "The Bayview Retreat..."

"Just drive." Sebastian cut him off, not slowing his stride.

The black SUV tore through the night. In the backseat, Sebastian stared out at the blurring city lights, his hands clenching unconsciously. His phone screen was still illuminated with the last message Mrs. Cunningham had sent half an hour ago:

[Mr. Thorne, Isabella won't stop crying. Nothing I say helps. She just complained of severe chest pains. The on-call doctor checked her and said it's likely induced by extreme emotional distress...]

There were no follow-up texts.

Sebastian closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. The memory of that rainy night twenty years ago slammed into him—his mother's first massive heart attack, the chaotic rush to the emergency room. He was eight years old, kneeling on the linoleum floor, paralyzed by the screeching alarms of the life-support machines. That was the night he learned the true meaning of terror.

"Mr. Thorne," Seth's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "We're here."

The car jerked to a halt in front of a pristine white compound. This was the most exclusive, state-of-the-art medical retreat in San Francisco. Sebastian had spent millions building it from the ground up specifically for his mother three years ago, stocking it with the absolute best equipment and medical minds money could buy. He thought he had finally built her a fortress.

He was wrong.

---

On the third floor of the retreat, outside the trauma suite.

The sterile hallway was flooded with fluorescent light, yet entirely devoid of sound. Mrs. Cunningham sat hunched on a bench, her hands wrung together in her lap, her eyes puffy and red. The moment she saw Sebastian, she scrambled to her feet, her voice trembling. "Mr. Thorne..."

"How is she?" Sebastian's tone remained strictly controlled, but the raw panic in his eyes betrayed him.

Tears spilled down the caretaker's face. "It's my fault... It's all my fault. I couldn't stop Marcus from barging in this afternoon... Isabella couldn't sleep. She kept crying, talking about everything that happened over the years... Then the chest pains started... By the time the doctors rushed in, she... she..."

She couldn't finish the sentence, burying her face in her hands as sobs racked her body.

Sebastian reached out and gripped her shoulder. "It's not your fault."

His voice was incredibly low, but she could hear the absolute sincerity in it. Having served the Thorne family for two decades, she understood the dynamic better than anyone. Sebastian was ruthless and cold to the entire world, but he reserved his only sliver of humanity for his mother.

"How long have the doctors been inside?" he demanded.

"Almost two hours," she choked out. "They came out once and... and said it looked incredibly bad."

Dr. Wang began sweating harder. "Mr. Thorne, we are doing absolutely everything humanly possible. Her heart is failing at a rate we can't..."

"Useless."

The word left Sebastian's lips in a deadly whisper, freezing everyone in their tracks.

He took one slow step forward, locking eyes with the Chief Director. "Do you have any idea how many millions of dollars I pump into this facility every single year? Look around. Every doctor standing here was poached globally with massive sign-on bonuses. State-of-the-art labs, experimental drugs, revolutionary tech. I gave you a blank check."

His voice steadily climbed, years of suppressed, violent rage finally bleeding through. "And the result? When my mother is dying on that table, you walk out here and tell me you can't save her? You're a bunch of useless hacks!"

He roared the last sentence. The sound echoed violently down the empty hall. Every single doctor dropped their gaze to the floor, paralyzed.

Dr. Wang's face burned a humiliating red. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but nothing came out. The rest of the team looked like they wished the floor would open up and swallow them.

Then, a hesitant, shaking voice piped up from the back of the huddle. "Sir... Mr. Thorne... actually... there might be one option left..."

Every head whipped around.

The speaker was an intern barely in his twenties, clutching a clipboard. He was pale and clearly terrified, having mustered every ounce of courage in his body to speak out of turn.