Chapter 5

Emma Carter POV

“Emma, have you lost your mind?” Adrian’s low voice came through, restrained fury beneath every word. In the background, I could faintly hear elegant violin music and the clinking of wineglasses. “I told you I’m discussing an important strategic investment. You’ve been calling nonstop during work hours. Where’s your professionalism?”

“Adrian! My brother is dying! He has burns over ninety percent of his body. The director said only you can perform the surgery! Please, come back. Please save him!”

I sobbed uncontrollably in the cab, begging him without any dignity left.

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then Adrian’s voice turned calm, almost cruelly rational.

“Emma, the investment Serena brought in concerns the hospital’s future. Five hundred million dollars could determine whether this hospital reaches the top tier in the country over the next five years. I can’t leave right now. Mr. Smith is difficult. If I walk away, the deal will fail completely.”

“But my brother can’t wait! He’s going to die!”

“The emergency department has other doctors.” Adrian sounded increasingly impatient. “I’ve already messaged Dr. Harris and told him to stabilize your brother first. You’re medical staff too. You should know what matters more. If Serena’s investment fails, the hospital could collapse. Where will your brother go for treatment then? Stop making a scene. I’ll come back when I’m done.”

“Adrian…”

Beep—

The call ended mercilessly.

I stared blankly at the screen.

To Adrian, the investment Serena had arranged—and the medical empire he was building—were far more important than my brother’s life.

Or perhaps it was because the person begging him was me, the “insignificant” Emma Carter.

If Serena’s family member had been lying on that operating table, would he have calmly weighed the options like this?

When I returned to the hospital, the red light outside the trauma room was still on.

Dr. Harris came rushing out, drenched in sweat. He shook his head sadly.

“Emma… I’m sorry. We did everything we could. Without immediate escharotomy and infection control, he developed multiple organ failure. Prepare the funeral.”

I didn’t cry.

Like a puppet with its soul removed, I walked into the trauma room one step at a time.

The machines gave off a sharp, continuous tone.

Beep—

The lively twenty-two-year-old lying on the stretcher had become a cold, rigid, horrifying corpse.

I walked over and touched the small section of his face that remained unburned.

The coldness beneath my fingertips traveled through my veins and froze my heart.

Six hours.

From the moment he was brought in until they declared him dead, six full hours had passed.

If Adrian had returned at the first call, would Noah still be alive?

“I’m sorry…”

I pressed my face against my brother’s cold hand. My tears mixed with the blood and fluids on his skin, dropping onto the white sheet one by one.

I was sorry for loving the wrong man.

I was sorry that my weakness had killed him.

At that moment, the flame that had burned inside me for five years—the flame named Adrian Black—was completely extinguished by the chemical plant explosion and the freezing morgue.

Not even a trace of warmth remained.