Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession

Meanwhile, in the second emergency ward, Freya met someone she didn't expect to see in their small, modest hospital — Mr. Trevor Baliante, the undisputed king of the business world.

She, like everyone else familiar with the cutthroat world of corporate empires, knew him as the CEO of the largest multi-billion-dollar company in the country. He was not just a business magnate but also the most sought-after bachelor, a man whose name was synonymous with power, wealth, and charm.

It was no secret that Mr. Trevor was stubbornly single, seemingly uninterested in settling down. Yet, his chiseled physique, sharp jawline, and piercing eyes made women weak at the knees whenever he entered a room. His presence was magnetic, almost otherworldly, and Freya was no exception to his allure.

However, she reminded herself he was far out of her reach, especially given his notorious avoidance of romantic entanglements. For this reason, she made no effort to catch his attention, content to admire him from afar.

Seeing him there, Freya didn't need anyone to explain what Amira had meant when she mentioned that high-profile individuals were involved in the car crash. What puzzled her, though, was why they had been brought to their small, under-resourced hospital when there were far larger, better-equipped facilities nearby.

Pushing her questions aside, Freya focused on her work, her training kicking in as she moved with precision. Minutes ticked by as the doctors and a handful of nurses worked tirelessly to revive one of the other men involved in the crash, a high-ranking state official.

Freya and Amira were left to attend to Trevor, who appeared to be in less critical condition than the others.

Just as they finished their tasks and were about to step away, Trevor's eyes fluttered open. In one swift motion, he pushed himself upright, disconnecting some of the monitors and tubes attached to his body. The sudden movement alarmed the nurses, and Freya quickly stepped forward to intervene.

"Sir, please, don't move. You're injured," Freya said firmly, placing a gentle but restraining hand on his shoulder. She noticed the confusion clouding his eyes as he processed her words.

"What? What are you talking about?" Trevor asked, his voice rough and disoriented. He glanced down at his body, his brow furrowing in bewilderment. "I can't be—Aahh! Where is my shirt?" he exclaimed, his panic rising as he realized he was bare-chested.

"There's no need to panic, Sir. You were in a car crash and sustained serious injuries. We had to remove your shirt to assess the extent of your wounds and clean off the blood," Freya explained calmly, her tone soothing yet professional. She couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement as he awkwardly tried to cover his exposed chest with his hands.

However, instead of calming down, the panic in Trevor's eyes only intensified.

"Boss!" he whispered hoarsely, his eyes widening as if struck by a sudden realization. Before Freya could ask what he meant, he swung his legs off the bed, disconnecting the remaining tubes, and attempted to bolt from the room.

Freya acted quickly, stepping into his path and blocking his escape. She suspected he was still in shock, his mind clouded by the trauma of the accident.

"Please, Sir, you need to stay calm. We're doing everything we can to ensure your health and safety," Freya said, her voice steady but firm. Trevor shook his head, his frustration evident.

"My boss... I need to see my boss right now. Where is he?" Trevor demanded, his tone urgent and insistent. His words left Freya and the others baffled. He was the boss—the man at the top of the corporate ladder. Who else could he be referring to?

"Sir, I think you may have hit your head and suffered a concussion. Please sit down so a doctor can examine you properly," Freya urged, but Trevor's agitation only grew. He scanned the room, his eyes darting from bed to bed, but the person he was searching for wasn't there. The nurses stood in his way, and while he could have forced his way past them, he knew it would only escalate the situation.

"What's going on here?" a deep, commanding voice echoed through the ward, cutting through the tension like a knife. Everyone turned toward the doorway, where Williams Xander stood, his imposing figure framed by the light streaming in from the hall.

The room fell silent as the nurses and doctors chorused, "Good morning, sir."

Williams Xander, the enigmatic former chief advisor to the president, was a man who commanded respect without uttering a word. His sharp, stoic features betrayed no emotion as his gaze swept across the room, finally settling on Trevor.

"Thank goodness you're here, Sir Williams," Trevor said, his voice tinged with relief.

"Where's Roman?" Williams asked, his tone direct and devoid of pleasantries.

"He's not here. I've been trying to find him, but they won't let me. They think I'm delusional," Trevor explained, still clutching his chest and shooting Freya a pointed look. "Also, I can't connect," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper. Williams nodded, understanding the gravity of his words.

"There was another man in the car with him? Where is he?" Williams asked, his piercing gaze shifting to Freya.

"Only five men were brought in. The other two are in the main building," a doctor interjected before Freya could respond.

"Take me to them," Williams ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. The doctor led the way, with Trevor and Williams following closely.

Freya trailed behind, her curiosity piqued. She wanted to know who Trevor referred to as his boss and why someone as influential as Williams Xander had come personally.

They entered the main building and were directed to the first room, where Roman lay unconscious. Williams stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he assessed the situation.

"This is him. Thank you. We'll be transferring him now," Williams stated, pulling out his phone to make a call.

Within minutes, four men in crisp suits entered the room, carrying a stretcher. They worked with military precision, swiftly transferring Roman out of the hospital and into a waiting car.

"Take him home," Williams instructed, and Trevor nodded in acknowledgment. They stood beside one of the vehicles, and Trevor buttoned up a shirt provided by the hospital, his movements quick and efficient.

"You're not coming with us?" Trevor asked, glancing at Williams.

"I have business to attend to," Williams replied curtly before climbing into his car and driving off without another word.

Trevor watched the car disappear down the road, grateful that Williams had arrived when he did. It had saved him a great deal of stress and ensured Roman didn't remain in the hospital longer than necessary.

With a soft sigh, Trevor signaled to the men to start the engine and climbed into the van beside his boss.

Back in the hospital, Freya stepped out of the room Roman had occupied, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of events. As she tried to process everything, she spotted Tessy walking toward her. In the chaos, she had almost forgotten about her friend, who was still reeling from her own heartbreak.

"Hey, baby girl, you don't look so good. Are you sure you're up for this? Do you want to go home and rest?" Freya asked, her voice filled with concern.

"What's going on? Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be in the emergency ward?" Tessy asked back instead of responding, her voice trembling slightly.

"The patient here was just transferred. Turns out he's a big shot," Freya explained.

"Big shot?" Tessy repeated, her eyes widening in shock.

"Yeah. Williams Xander came for him, and Mr. Trevor Baliante calls him boss. I wonder why his face doesn't ring a bell," Freya mused, her brow furrowed in thought.

When she looked up, she was startled to see Tessy's face had drained of color, her expression one of sheer panic.

"What's wrong?" Freya asked, her concern deepening.

"I'm dead! I'm so dead!! I'm so so dead!!!" Tessy cried, her voice breaking as fresh tears streamed down her face.