Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 285

The Aurelian Reach Convalescent Home—the name sounded respectable, but in reality, it was just a large compound built in the middle of nowhere.

The taxi bounced along a muddy path for half an hour before finally stopping in front of a rust-spotted iron gate.

The rain was coming down harder now.

Grace paid the driver and got out.

The convalescent home was eerily quiet, the only sound the patter of rain on the corrugated iron roof.

Half the lightbulbs in the hallway were broken, flickering on and off. The air was thick with the foul stench of disinfectant mixed with excrement.

Grace walked deeper into the building, step by step.

Each footfall echoed dully in the empty corridor.

"Who are you looking for?"

A middle-aged woman in a grimy attendant’s uniform blocked her path, her eyes wary.

"Tristan Holloway."

Grace said the name.

The attendant froze for a second, then looked her up and down, her expression turning strange. "Who are you to him? That old man has been lying here for almost five years, and no one's ever come to visit."

"I'm here to send him off."

Grace's voice was soft, but in the gloomy hallway, it sent a shiver down the spine.

The attendant trembled and, before she could speak, a deep male voice came from behind her.

"Let her in."

Grace's head snapped up.

A man stood in the shadows at the end of the corridor.

He was dressed in a well-tailored black overcoat, his tall and straight figure completely out of place in this dilapidated, filthy facility.

He wasn't holding an umbrella, yet his shoulders were dry, a clear sign he had been waiting for a long time.

His face was obscured by the dim light, but his eyes, deep and cold as a winter pond, were fixed squarely on Grace.

It was Damien.

Grace's heart skipped a beat.

She hadn't expected him to come in person.

The coat carried his body heat, instantly enveloping Grace's frozen frame.

"The path ahead is slippery. If you fall and kill yourself, all my effort finding him for you will have been for nothing."

His tone was harsh, but his movements were impossibly gentle.

Grace froze.

She wanted to throw the coat off, to scream and demand what he was playing at.

But her body instinctively craved the warmth.

"Damien," Grace took a deep breath and looked up at him, "don't think I'll be grateful just because you do this. The Clarke family owes me a debt you can never repay in this lifetime."

"I know."

A flash of pain crossed Damien's eyes as he looked at her. "And I never expected you to forgive me."

He turned and signaled for the attendant to open the door.

"Go on in. He's waiting for you."

It was a small room, less than a hundred square feet.