Three hours later, the night deepened.
A Rolls-Royce stopped outside a small clinic near Roman Street.
After the driver opened the car door for the person in the back, he respectfully walked to the side, waiting quietly.
Benjamin Sinclair pushed open the clinic door, furrowing his brows and walking swiftly inside. As soon as he entered, he encountered someone coming out.
He stepped forward, full of concern, supporting the person coming out, "Natasha, are you okay?"
