CHAPTER 225: CHAPTER 225

Without a second thought, Angela bolted outside to catch Remillia. "Remillia! Can you give me a ride? I have to get to the hospital right now!"

I shook off my daze and jumped to my feet, heading straight for the door.

"Whitney, could you pack my stuff too?" I called out.

"Wait, where are you headed?" Cypher asked, looking confused.

"To take Angela to the hospital," I replied, glancing at her as she lingered by the doorway. "What are you waiting for? I thought you were in a rush?"

Angela blinked out of her trance and hurried after me as we stepped outside.

"We’ll catch up as soon as the traffic is cleared!" Rex shouted from behind us.

"And don’t forget my things, Whitney," I added over my shoulder.

We made our way to the parking lot, and I transformed my bracelet into the motorcycle. I grabbed my helmet and quickly bought another one for Angela from the system shop.

"Here, put this on," I said, handing it to her before swinging onto the bike.

She eyed the motorcycle nervously. "On second thought, maybe I should just wait for the others."

"Do you want to see your brother or not?" I shot back.

She sighed, giving in. "Fine." She slipped on the helmet and climbed on behind me. "Uh, where do I hold on?"

"My shoulders," I told her. The engine roared to life. "Hold tight." With that, I sped off into traffic. Angela started screaming and swearing, her arms wrapping around me—gripping a little too high on my waist.

"Hey! Watch your hands!" I yelled over the roar of the wind.

"I’m scared!" Angela shouted back, her grip tightening unconsciously—right on my breasts.

My face burned with embarrassment. "Angela!"

She didn’t respond, too busy screaming her head off. The noise from the bike and her yelling drowned everything out; she probably couldn’t hear me at all.

I had no choice but to reach back with one hand while steering with the other, prying her fingers loose and guiding them around my waist instead.

We tore through the streets like maniacs and finally pulled up at the VIP wing of the hospital.

"We’re here," I said, twisting to look at her. She was still clinging to my waist like her life depended on it.

No reaction. I gave her a nudge with my shoulder.

"W-What?" She finally cracked her eyes open, sniffling, tears streaming down her face.

"We’re here," I repeated gently.

"...Ah," she murmured, staring at the hospital building in a total daze, like she wasn’t sure if this was real or some dream.

I took her hand and tugged her off the bike. "You’re not dreaming. The others should be on their way too."

Even a Hero couldn’t sprint all the way from Merizona to Monfort—not in this state. And if they roused the chauffeur for the limousine, it’d still take at least an hour and a half to get here.

We couldn’t afford to wait around for them.

"Let’s head inside," I said, killing the engine and swinging off the bike to park it properly.

"Um, yeah," Angela murmured, still a bit shaky as she led the way toward the hospital entrance.

"What about your dad?" I asked, falling into step beside her.

"...He’s out of the country with my grandfather," she replied quietly.

Even the president of Forbes Group couldn’t force open a sealed Portal—not without causing a major incident.

The guard at the front gate spotted Angela right away and swung the door open without a word.

We stepped into the outer courtyard of the VIP hospital, where this massive, beautifully landscaped garden stretched out—manicured hedges, fountains, the works. I could sense the security humming everywhere; hidden cameras and mana detectors everywhere I looked.

That’s when I noticed a doctor bursting out of a side door, trailed by a cluster of nurses, all hurrying toward us.

"Miss Forbes?" the doctor called out as they approached, his eyes widening in surprise when he clocked me standing there.

Angela just nodded and gestured my way. "She’s a friend of mine. Can we go in?"

"Ah, of course, right this way," the middle-aged doctor said, adjusting his glasses. He had that neatly combed hair and a calm, professional vibe as he ushered us through.

The inside of the VIP wing was all class—polished marble floors, soft lighting, artwork on the walls—like stepping into some fancy museum rather than a hospital.

As we walked down the hallway, Angela turned to the doctor. "How’s his condition?"

He gave her a warm smile. "He’s not fully awake yet, but you’ll see—he should be stirring soon. It’s nothing short of a miracle."

We came to a stop in front of an elevator that led underground. That’s where Raphael was being kept.

"Excuse me, but... she’s?" The doctor hesitated, glancing between Angela and me like he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

"Ah, it’s fine. She got me here," Angela said quickly.

"...Is that right?" The doctor replied, still shooting me a suspicious look.

"Of course," she insisted, then turned to me with a small nod. "You can keep a secret, right? I know you’re good at that."

Her trust hit me like a punch to the gut, twisting the knot in my chest even tighter.

"Then let’s head down," the doctor said, pressing the button.

The elevator hummed as it carried us below.

Raphael’s room took up nearly half the entire floor. It wasn’t just any setup—there was a shimmering magic barrier sealing it off, and three mercenaries stood guard at the door. One look told me they were no pushovers; they had the build and aura of elite-rank Heroes.

"Congratulations, Young Miss," one of them said, stepping forward. He was built like a tank, but he cracked a surprisingly genuine smile.

Angela nodded, her face caught in this dazed, almost unreal expression. "Y-Yes, thank you."

"...And is she coming in too?" The mercenary jerked his thumb toward me.

"Yes," Angela said firmly.

"Hmm. She’d need the president’s permission—"

"I’ll handle that. Father’s probably buried in work anyway and won’t make it today," she interrupted, her voice steady despite everything.

The mercenary cleared his throat awkwardly, then swung the door open. We stepped inside with the doctor trailing behind.

A clean, floral scent filled the air the moment we entered—fresh and soothing, like a high-end spa.

The room’s mana detector was pegged at the ’propitious’ level, humming with positive energy that made the whole space feel alive.

A stunning painting hung on the wall, adding some warmth and color to the room, and all around were framed photos of Angela and Raphael—candid shots from happier times, vacations, family moments.

"Ah...." Angela whispered, her voice barely there, like she was lost in a dream.

In the cozy setup of the room, Raphael was propped up on the bed, taking slow, steady breaths. He looked worn out, both physically and mentally, but his eyes were open—he was definitely awake.

"We’ve already told him he hasn’t been conscious for four years," the doctor said softly, "but it’s only been about two hours since he first came to, so his memory’s still a bit foggy. That said, he should make a full recovery within a month."

Angela didn’t seem to register a word of it. Tears just started streaming down her cheeks, silent and steady.

The doctor paused, watching her for a second, then nodded. "I’ll give you two some space. I’ll be back shortly." He slipped out and shut the door behind him.

The room went quiet, the kind of heavy silence that presses in on you.

Angela just stood there, staring at him, then finally let out the word she’d probably been holding onto for years. "...Brother?"

Raphael turned his head slowly toward her.

I couldn’t stop staring at his face. My breath caught in my throat—he was way more handsome than I’d ever described him in the novel. The longer I looked, the more my brows knit together, and then my eyes went wide. Wait... had I based my crush’s description on him? Oh god.

He gazed at Angela for what felt like forever, silent. Then a faint smile tugged at his lips, and that voice she’d been aching to hear broke through, soft but clear. "Gela..." Even with part of his brain damaged, he still knew her face right away. "...You’ve grown so much. The doctor told me—it’s been four years, huh?"

His gentle tone made Angela shake, like she was rooted to the spot. I had to step in, grabbing her wrist and gently pulling her closer to the bed. Raphael’s eyes shifted to me, curious and steady. "I remember Whitney, but... you? Who are you?"

He turned that smile on me, warm and easy. "Well, please forgive my sister if she’s been a handful."

"Raph!" Angela huffed, pouting like a kid.

I was still kind of zoned out, staring at him. He looked like some kind of angel. I shook my head to snap out of it. "She can be a total brat sometimes, but I can handle her."

"Remillia!" Angela shot back, crossing her arms with another pout. "Are you two ganging up on me or what?"

Raphael let out a low chuckle at that. "Looks like you and my sister get along just fine."

I felt my cheeks heat up, seeing his face up close like this—real, breathing, even more striking than I’d imagined. The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "We could get along a whole lot better if I married you—"

I slapped a hand over my mouth in pure horror. Why on earth had I made Raphael my crush in the story? I regretted every word. Why was I such a sucker for a pretty face? Ugh!

Raphael and Angela both froze, eyes wide, but then Raphael burst into laughter—deep and genuine, like he couldn’t hold it back. "It’s been so long since I laughed this hard."

I let out a nervous laugh, trying to play it off, but Angela shot me this death glare—like, ’Don’t even think about making a move on him, or else.’

I swallowed hard, my face burning. This was mortifying. "Did you... like my j-joke?" I stammered.

Raphael wiped at the corners of his eyes, still smiling at me. "That was a joke? I figured you were serious."

My cheeks went up in flames. "Then why’d you laugh?"

He shrugged lightly, his grin turning playful. "Because it’s the first time anyone’s ever proposed to me. Not even a ring or flowers to sweeten the deal."

Now it was my turn—and Angela’s—to freeze solid.

"Are you two seriously flirting right in front of me?!" Angela exploded, her annoyance bubbling over like she’d been holding it in forever.

Before she could lay into me, I scrambled for an out. "O-Oh, looks like someone’s calling. I’ll just... leave you two to catch up?" I blurted, already backing toward the door.

"Heading out without a proper goodbye? You didn’t even tell me your name," Raphael called after me, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Raph! What is wrong with you?!" Angela snapped at him, her voice sharp.

I didn’t stick around to hear more—I just shut the door behind me and bolted from the room.

Raphael was so weird!