She is Fragile

~ At the Explosion site ~

"PEONY!!!!" Garret's anguished cry pierces the air as the grim scene unfolds before him. The horrors of the mishap have etched a haunting memory, leaving him shaken to his core. The unexpected car explosion shattered his sense of normalcy.

Amidst the swirling orange flames, desperation propels Garret towards the inferno, a futile attempt to plunge into the heart of the fire.

"Hey," a stern voice intervenes as a police officer grasps Garret firmly. "Don't move."

"My wife...my wife is there!" Garret pleads, his eyes reflecting both fear and desperation.

"Then who is she with you?" The police officer's gaze shifts to Shyla.

"Sir, she...", Garret commences.

Shyla interjects with a composed urgency, "He's just sick, Officer. Please, we need your help to evacuate."

"Stand by. Don't interfere with our work."

As fire brigades arrive, the officers take control, containing the flames while managing the unfolding crisis.

"What about my wife, Sir? She's inside the car. Please, you have to help her," Garret pleads, his voice a desperate wail echoing with paranoia.

"If what you're saying is true, then she won't survive. It's impossible to survive such an explosion," the police officer utters, his expression grim.

Garret collapses to his knees, a chorus of "No, no, no, she can't leave me. She promised she wouldn't leave me."

"Garret, stop it. You should be relieved that you weren't in the car. Because of me, you stayed here and survived. I saved your life, Garret," Shyla insists, her words a mix of consolation and the heavy weight of reality.

"I would rather die with her than be safe here with you!" Garret's anguished scream pierces the air, echoing his profound desperation.

In the midst of the turmoil, Shyla contemplates, "What is it about that girl that drives men to madness? You have both Garret and Benedict, both from wealthy families, caring for you. Yet, you persist in your self-righteous pretence."

The police officer meticulously scrutinises the explosion site, sifting through debris and scanning for any trace of the woman supposedly inside the car before it erupted in flames. The acrid scent of smoke hangs heavily in the air as he conducts a thorough investigation.

"There are no remains," the officer reports, his expression betraying a mix of concern and doubt. "Are you absolutely certain someone was inside the car during the explosion?"

Garret, his face etched with anguish, responds with a sense of urgency, "Yes, Officer. We were on our honeymoon. Why would I mistake such a crucial detail?" The gravity of the situation weighs heavily in his voice as he clings to the hope that somehow, against the odds, there might be a trace of Peony.

The officer, maintaining a professional demeanour, delivers a sombre assessment, "There can be only two possibilities. One, she exploded in the car crash, and her body burnt in different directions. Two, she wasn't in the car. This is what I infer. I will let you know when I find more details. Meanwhile, both of you, cooperate with the investigation."

Shyla stutters nervously, "Are we considered suspects?"

The officer's gaze sharpens, "Depending on how he is related to the person in the car, and you were with him. Indeed, both of you are considered suspects for now. Our team had a lead that a bomb was planted in this car; it's indeed a murder or a definite attempt to murder. Now come with us." The weight of suspicion lingers as they're led away for further questioning.

"Why Peony? Why did you leave me? Why?" Garret wails, his voice a heartbreaking mix of grief and disbelief, resonating in the aftermath of the tragic revelation.

Shyla shudders, her voice faltering, "Police station, an attempt to murder? Peony, even in your death, you don't spare me, huh?"

With the situation under control, the police force escorts Garret, Shyla, and the other suspects to the police station for further investigation.

~~~~~~

~ In Benedict's Car ~

In the confined space of Benedict's car, Peony remains serenely asleep on his shoulders, seemingly undisturbed by the storm brewing around her.

"Timmy, did you receive any update from Mr. Smith?" Benedict's voice carries a heavy undertone of concern, his gaze momentarily lingering on Peony's peaceful slumber.

"Gonzalez's driver is being taken to our company godown," Timmy reports, the urgency in his words resonating within the car's confined space.

"Very well. Inform him not to let him out of sight even for a minute. Also inform Mr. Smith, I will personally handle this case.", Benedict's eyes reveal a mix of determination, anger and worry, his fingers gently adjusting Peony's position.

"I will inform him, but before that, I've received an update from the Tisiphone Org. Mudan's editor, Miss Irina Lopez, will be arriving today to discuss the adaptation.", Timmy reports.

"Ah, I remember. Push it back. Inform her to meet me tomorrow. I need to deal with this first. The Gonzalez family will pay," Benedict declares, his fingers folding into a tight fist.

Timmy smiles knowingly, sensing the weight of emotions in Benedict's words. "The old Benedict is back," he mutters, acknowledging the resurgence of a familiar, resolute demeanour.

~~~~~

The black Rolls Royce comes to a majestic halt, and the immense gates gracefully swing open, revealing a sprawling villa that exudes opulence. The guards bow in profound reverence as the car glides through the entrance. The driveway, lined with impeccably manicured gardens, leads to a grandiose mansion adorned with intricate architectural details.

A stunning fountain graces the front courtyard, its cascading water creating a harmonious melody that resonates with the air of affluence. Elaborate sculptures and art installations adorn the meticulously landscaped grounds, and the exterior is a seamless blend of modern design and classical elegance.

As the car navigates through the property, the sheer scale of luxury becomes evident. Massive French windows reveal glimpses of lavishly decorated rooms within, while the sprawling estate boasts a private helipad, a pristine swimming pool surrounded by marble, and an outdoor entertainment area that rivals exclusive resorts.

From the intricately designed wrought-iron gates to the sprawling terrace overlooking manicured lawns, the villa is not just a home but a symbol of wealth and accomplishment.

As the door of the car open, Benedict steps out and delicately adjusts Peony in his arms. Cradling her carefully, he proceeds towards the mansion, heading for the guest room. Timmy follows closely behind, a silent companion in this moment of care and concern.

The secretary efficiently parks the car, the engine purring to a halt in the opulent driveway.

"Timmy, call Dr. Nia immediately," Benedict directs with a frown, his gaze fixed on Peony's fragile state. Her body appears frail, and the presence of dark circles beneath her eyes is visibly concerning.

"Ben, she just needs sleep. You're over-worrying about her," Timmy reassures.

"No, still call her. I want to make sure," Benedict insists, his concern evident as he takes a seat by the bedside, his attention solely focused on Peony's well-being.

"Fine, whatever you demand?" Timmy acquiesces, recognizing Benedict's determination to ensure the best care for Peony.

Dr. Nia promptly arrives, her medical expertise evident in the way she assesses Peony's condition. Benedict watches anxiously as the doctor examines Peony, her hands professional yet gentle. Timmy, standing by, observes with a quiet understanding of Benedict's concern.

After a thorough examination, Dr. Nia addresses Benedict, her expression carrying a mix of concern and professional composure, "She seems physically fatigued and stressed. Also, she is very weak. Her blood pressure is low. Did something happen to her recently? I recommend letting her sleep, ensuring a calm environment. I'll prescribe some mild medications for her."

Benedict's face tightens at the mention of Peony's deteriorating health. " She was involved in a traumatic incident today, an asthma attack followed by a car explosion. She narrowly escaped."

Dr. Nia nods understandingly, "That explains it. The stress and shock could have taken a toll on her. Let her rest, and with the prescribed medication, she should gradually recover. Keep a close eye on her and ensure a peaceful atmosphere."

As Dr. Nia leaves to prepare the prescription, Benedict remains by Peony's side, his concern etched on his face.

Timmy, recognizing Benedict's need for solitude, quietly guides Dr. Nia out of the room.

In the hallway, Timmy engages in a brief conversation with Dr. Nia, concern etched on his face.

"Doctor, is everything alright?" Timmy inquires, his tone revealing a genuine worry.

"No need to worry. She just needs a proper environment. Is she Benedict's lover?" Dr. Nia gossips, her expression hinting at a playful curiosity.

"You never change, right," Timmy responds, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his voice.

"Why should I change? She is so pretty. If Benedict doesn't want her, I can take her for myself," Dr. Nia teases, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Sometimes I really doubt your profession."

"Hey kiddo, speak with respect," Dr. Nia retorts, a playful smile softening her words.

"Hah, you're just 5 months older than me, and you expect me to respect you?" Timmy counters.

"Fine then. Here is the prescription. I have surgery to perform at the hospital. No time for romance, sigh," she says, stretching her arm with a hint of jest in her tone.

"Then let me take you there," Timmy replies, a subtle twinkle in his eye.

Dr. Nia chuckles, her eyes holding a blend of gratitude and exhaustion. "Then you need to be ready because I will order you around."

"Fine by me," Timmy smirks.

They both depart.

At the same time, Benedict tends to Peony, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. "Sleep tight," he whispers, a touch of reassurance in his words.