Chapter 105
Galatea spent the entire afternoon walking through various storefronts, analyzing each one with a mixture of hope and skepticism. She had already decided that she was going to open her clinic, but the question was where. After hours of searching, she stumbled upon a place that truly caught her eye.
It was located in the city center, surrounded by a constant flow of people—a perfect location for a thriving business. The building itself was charming, with two floors that offered the potential for the ideal layout: the first floor for consultations and treatments, while the second floor could be transformed into a relaxing lounge area. It seemed perfect.
“Dr. Galatea, do you like this place? Opening a clinic here would be a great business,” the real estate agent asked, smiling with professional optimism.
Galatea hesitated for a moment, trying to suppress her excitement. She didn’t want to show too much enthusiasm, knowing it would make negotiations more difficult. She leaned back slightly and, with a touch of reluctance in her voice, replied, “It’s alright. I’m not very satisfied with that balcony, though.”
The agent, sensing the opportunity to press her, asked, “So, does that mean you want to look at other properties?”
Galatea, while internally wanting to jump at the chance to rent the place, played her part. “Wait for me; I’ll take another look upstairs and consider it,” she said, walking toward the second floor once more.
The agent, though slightly puzzled, was about to follow her when his phone rang. Galatea, alone in her thoughts, took the opportunity to explore the second floor again. It was even better than she remembered—spacious, airy, and well-lit. She loved it. She decided that this was the place she wanted.
As she descended the stairs, the agent was waiting for her, a hopeful look on his face. “How’s Dr. Galatea considering it?” he asked.
Galatea smiled. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll rent this place. How much is the rent?” She braced herself, hoping it wouldn’t be out of her budget.
“Three thousand dollars a month,” the agent replied smoothly.
Galatea blinked in disbelief. Three thousand? Could she have misheard him? She had expected it to be at least thirty thousand, considering the location and size. “Three thousand?” she asked again, her voice rising in surprise.
“Yes, three thousand,” the agent confirmed, a calm smile on his face.
“That’s too cheap, isn’t it?” Galatea’s voice was filled with skepticism. “In this location, with this much space, are you sure it’s only three thousand a month?”
“Absolutely,” the agent responded. “The owner of this house is very wealthy. His entire family has emigrated overseas, and this property is where they built their fortune. They’re reluctant to sell it but don’t want it to go abandoned, so they decided to rent it out. The rent is simply symbolic.”
Galatea felt her suspicion grow. “If it’s such a good deal, why hasn’t anyone rented it yet? Why did it wait until I came?”
The agent chuckled lightly, trying to ease her doubts. “Dr. Galatea, it’s normal to be cautious. The owner has a peculiar requirement. He only rents to single women who are starting their own businesses. None of the previous potential tenants met his criteria, so I didn’t bring anyone to see it before you.”
Galatea raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. “And if I don’t believe you, what do you suggest?”
“If you’d like,” the agent said, his tone turning reassuring, “you can speak directly with the owner. We can sign the rental agreement immediately. And if it turns out to be a haunted house, we promise to compensate you tenfold. You can rest assured.”
Galatea still didn’t fully trust it, but the agent’s words began to wear on her doubts. The deal was too good to pass up, especially when she was in desperate need of a place for her clinic. So, after carefully reading the rental agreement multiple times, she found no red flags.
She signed the contract and received the keys to the place.
The agent, clearly relieved, made a quick phone call. “CEO Ambrose, everything is settled.”
On the other end of the line, Ambrose’s voice was smooth but filled with anticipation. “Good. Has she become suspicious?”
The agent hesitated for a moment before replying, “She doubted, but she definitely wouldn’t suspect it’s yours.”
“That’s good,” Ambrose replied with a slight chuckle. “Denny, take care of buying that set of shops near her. And also get me a house near her location, one that gives me a clear view of her clinic. I want to be able to see her anytime.”
Ambrose’s instructions were clear, but his mind was far from the business side of things. The thought of Galatea was consuming him—her name, her past, and the children. Where had she been all these years? He couldn’t stop wondering about her secrets. Why had she disappeared? What had she been through?
His focus shifted back to the photos Denny had provided. There, in the images of Harry and Elisa, were the striking similarities to Alaric. Ambrose’s brow furrowed as he examined the boy in particular, who looked so much like Alaric, despite the fact that Alaric had been in a coma seven years ago, long before Galatea’s disappearance.
He stared at the photo, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. Could they be his? If the children weren’t Alaric’s, then whose could they be?
He couldn’t help but recall the photo of him and Galatea from years ago. In the picture, she had been smiling so sweetly, leaning against him. He had loved her then, and he still did now, though he couldn’t shake the pain of everything that had happened.
Ambrose’s hand lingered on the screen. “Stellan,” he whispered softly, “I know you must have experienced so much pain. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry. But I love you.” He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely.
Meanwhile, in Alaric’s office, a day had passed since Galatea had failed to show up for her usual treatment. Was she really planning to give him the silent treatment? It was unlike her, and a part of him hoped she would come to him, apologize. But when he heard a knock on the door, his heart raced, only to deflate when he saw it wasn’t Galatea who entered.
It was Cormac.
“Why is it you?” Alaric asked, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and disappointment.
Cormac, ever the cheeky one, noticed Alaric’s reaction and grinned. “Why are you so disappointed to see me? Who did you expect?” he teased, noting Alaric’s flushed face.
“When did you learn to knock?” Alaric scoffed, his annoyance palpable. In the past, Cormac would have just barged in.
“Last time I barged in, I witnessed something… Let’s just say I thought I should be more respectful,” Cormac replied, his eyes scanning the room. When he didn’t see Galatea, he raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t today the day for her treatment? Why isn’t she here?”
Alaric’s patience was thinning. “What the hell are you doing here? Tell me what you need. Don’t waste my time!” he snapped.
It seemed like he wasn’t the only one running on empty.