Dylan was about to get in when the cell phone rang sharply.
He paused and took it out. The bodyguard who had been sent to protect Savannah called.
"Where's she?" He answered the phone, and his voice was frosty.
Everyone believed that if the bodyguard replied that he had lost Miss Schultz, Mr. Sterling would have blown up Milan the next moment.
Over the phone, the bodyguard's nervous voice came, "Mr. Sterling, Miss Schultz is at the City Hospital…"
* * *
City Hospital, Milan.
All the main hospitals in the city were crowded with the injured after the riots. City Hospital was no exception.
The doctors and nurses were running in and out, buzzing around. From time to time, the wailing of the injured came from the wards or the emergency rooms.
A tall, gorgeous man stepped into the hospital at so feverish but elegant a pace.
The man radiated a natural dignity and aristocratic bearing but also had an air of restrained fury. His appearance immediately attracted the attention of the people on the scene. Even the wounded looked over and forgot the pain for a moment.
The man was accompanied by a group of serious-looking bodyguards and several Italian policemen in uniform, who cleared the way for him.
A bodyguard walked up and whispered something into his ear. The man, with a sullen look, strode off toward the inpatient department located at the rear.
He almost flew along the corridor and stopped in front of one of the wards. Without ceremony, he banged open the door and burst in.
It was a big multi-bedded ward, and as the number of the injured increased these days suddenly, it was temporarily filled with a lot more beds, some of which was curtained off.
Dylan looked around in the rambling hospital ward, searching for the little woman.
The sick and wounded were lying roughly in the ward, and the nurses kept helping newly injured men in.
There was even a man with half of his ten fingers blown off, so badly mangled that he could see the mutilation in the gauze.
Even in such a noisy environment, Dylan could hear his own fierce heartbeat, cold sweat soaking his back.
There was only one voice roaring in his head—
Why did he allow her to go to such a place alone?
He could not bear to see her lose even a hair!
At last, he saw the familiar outline of a pair of shoes under a curtain in the corner of the ward.
It was a pair of pink, blue sneakers.
They were her shoes. She had worn them a few times! She came to Italy with them!
Dylan stepped across and pulled up the curtain.
It was not Savannah who was wearing the shoes, but a frightened Italian girl.
The little girl, who was only in her early 10, got out of bed to pour water when she saw a tall man angrily pull back the curtain. Startled, she almost broke the glass in her hand!
Dylan, on the verge of breaking down, grabbed the girl's collar and asked in English, "Who are you? Why wear someone else's shoes? Where's the owner of the shoes? Tell me! Where is she?!"
The shoes were not of an internationally popular brand and were hardly seen anywhere. They were originally designed by Savannah herself, and she intended to promote women's shoes in the next season. She often wore them for their low cutter and comfort.
How did Savannah's shoes get on the girl's feet?
The girl, choked red in the face, looked at the strange angry man with panic, unable to speak. She didn't understand English, and she only stammered in Italian.
Garwood came after Dylan and grabbed his arm.
"Take it easy, sir, ask the girl what happened first --"
Dylan, however, was worried-sick and mad and couldn't hear Garwood. He stared at the little girl for a reply as he squeezed his fingers around her neck.
"Ah... Ah..." The girl w.h.i.n.ed.
"Dylan!"
Suddenly, there came a shocking female voice from behind them!
As if struck by lightning, Dylan let go of the girl.
"Signorina! (Italian, Miss)" The girl ran to Savannah and hid behind her in fear.
Dylan turned around and saw Savannah standing not far away from him with a kettle in her hand. She seemed surprised to see him here.
The bodyguard who protected Savannah also followed. He hurriedly came up to Dylan and explained, "Sir, don't worry, Miss Schultz is fine. She just came to the hospital as a volunteer to take care of the injured..."
Just now, Dylan hung up in a hurry before the bodyguard finished his report.
After a short pause, Dylan strode over and held Savannah in his arms, as if she was his lost treasure.
Savannah was almost out of breath in his arms, but she could feel his worry and anxiety.
He didn't come to Italy for her, did he?
Was it because he saw the riots in Milan and was worried about her?
It took her awhile to realize that Garwood, the little Italian girl, and even the whole ward were staring at her.
"What are you doing here?" She flushed and pushed him away.
Dylan still gazed at her fervently.
Garwood couldn't help from blurting out, "Miss Schultz, Mr. Sterling couldn't get in touch with you after the riots. He was so worried that he came here on a private plane…"
"Shut up," Dylan interrupted Garwood in an embarrassed whisper.
Was Garwood trying to disgrace him in front of this little woman?
Savannah laughed at his awkward appearance.
After sitting down and talking for a while, Dylan learned that there had been several explosions over the past few days. One of the explosions was near Savannah's school, and several of her schoolmates were injured, so Savannah and her friend Elisa came to the hospital to visit their classmates.
Seeing that there were too many injured people, and they couldn't be well-taken care of due to the nurse shortage of the hospital, Savannah and Elisa stayed as volunteers, caring for the injured. Their phone batteries were dead, and they were too busy to inform the school and their family.
The Italian girl was one of the injured in a slum, and she was an orphan, so Savannah took extra care of her.