It was around 3:30 a.m in the morning.
Luoyang stood quietly at the hotel's rear entrance, flanked by four personal guards.
Dressed simply in a flowing pale blue dress, her face was calm, but her fingers twisted around the strap of her handbag. Her eyes flicked once toward the lobby, but Wil didn't show up.
One of the guards opened the car door. "Ma'am, we're ready."
She nodded and got in without a word.
The motorcade pulled out, quiet and professional, making its way through the city toward the airport.
At the gate, she was ushered onto the tarmac and up the steps of a sleek black private jet, one that was owned by Wil.
She entered and sat down near the window. There, a couple of nurses and a doctor were already there, waiting for her. And inside the plane, all kinds of medical equipment are neatly arranged. It was as if the private jet turned into an air ambulance.
Half an hour passed.
She didn't check her phone. Didn't fidget. She waited quietly.
