Transmigrated: Stealing the CEO husband-Chapter 21: ID card

In the end, Gerald couldn't get a damn thing out of Ariana. After hours of heated back-and-forth, mind games, and mental tug-of-war, he finally snapped.

"Get out," Gerald growled, voice cold and sharp. "Leave me the fuck alone."

She, being the very epitome of obedience, smiled sweetly, turned on her heel, and fucked off.

Downstairs, on the ground floor, Ariana found David and a few others lingering in the lobby. Their post-meeting excitement still hung in the air.

"What took you so long?" David's tone carried an edge — part annoyance, part concern.

"I left my card key in the room," she lied smoothly.

"Yeah, whatever," David muttered. "Hop in — we're flying back soon. Speaking of which..." He paused, then clapped his hands loudly to gather attention. "Everyone, listen up!"

The crowd turned their eyes to him, and David grinned.

"Because our meeting went so well," he announced, "President Luiss has decided to reward us. Everyone's getting one full week of paid leave!"

The room erupted with cheers, whistles, and laughter. Some clapped David on the back while others hugged each other. The news had clearly electrified the crowd.

Grateful faces soon turned toward Ariana. One by one, her colleagues approached her, expressing their thanks. They knew the truth — the deal's success rested on her shoulders.

Even David — usually proud and competitive — begrudgingly admitted, "You did good."

The warmth of praise surrounded her as they filed out to their transport. It wasn't bad, this feeling — not bad at all.

But the satisfaction faded fast at the airport.

"Where the fuck does Ariana Grey even live?"

A cold wave of realization washed over her. In the original story, her character's home was never mentioned. And her memories — whatever fragments she'd inherited — didn't include her address either.

She stood awkwardly near the terminal, her mind racing.

"You look jittery. Everything alright, Ms. Grey?" David's smug voice came from behind her.

Perfect.

Ariana blinked twice and pressed her hand to her forehead. "I... I don't feel well," she murmured faintly.

David's face shifted from smug to skeptical. "What's wrong with you now?"

Her knees buckled slightly — just enough to make him step closer. Ariana let her limbs go slack, collapsing just enough for David to instinctively reach out and steady her.

"Motion sickness," she muttered weakly. She pretended to push herself upright, only to stagger again — pressing herself closer to him.

His arm wrapped securely around her waist, stabilizing her. "Geez..." David grumbled, clearly torn between irritation and concern.

"I'll take you home," he sighed, still holding her steady.

Perfect.

Since the other employees were still in sight, David couldn't just abandon her — appearances mattered. Besides, Ariana had helped Luiss Groups tremendously; David couldn't brush her aside so easily anymore.

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He led her to his car, muttering something about how she always seemed to cause trouble. Once inside, David asked the dreaded question:

"Where do you live?"

'Shit.'

Panic surged. Ariana's gaze flicked to the door handle like she might dive out the car and run. Instead, she slumped dramatically in her seat, her head rolling to the side.

"...Ugh..." she groaned faintly, letting her eyes flutter shut.

David's fingers twitched on the steering wheel. "Hey! Don't pass out!"

No response.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" He raked a hand through his hair before snapping at the driver, "Head for the nearest hospital!"

The hospital buzzed with muted chatter, distant footsteps, and faint beeps from medical equipment.

Ariana's limp form was placed on a stretcher and whisked into the ER.

David stood nearby, arms crossed, tapping his foot anxiously. When the doctor finally emerged, clipboard in hand, David rushed forward.

"Well?"

"She's perfectly healthy," the doctor said. "Vitals are normal. We took a blood sample for tests — results will come tomorrow. But physically, there's nothing wrong."

"Then why did she pass out?" David asked sharply.

"Fatigue, stress... maybe something emotional," the doctor speculated. "Was she under pressure recently?"

David's gaze darkened. "She went back to her room alone to get her key card," he muttered. "And... I remember seeing Gerald heading to the same floor earlier."

The doctor's brows rose knowingly. "That's your answer," he said grimly.

David's jaw clenched. "I need to inform President Luiss right away."

Meanwhile, in the hospital's private room, Ariana jolted awake with a start.

"Ugh..." She groaned, clutching her head. "What the hell was that?"

Her eyes fell on her purse. Digging inside, she fished out her wallet — and sure enough, her ID card sat neatly inside.

Printed clearly beneath her photo was her home address.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, dragging a hand down her face. "I'm such an idiot."

Moments later, she stepped out into the hallway, fully alert and walking with purpose.

David was still deep in conversation with the doctor when he caught sight of her. His face twisted in confusion.

"...How are you...?" David blinked, words failing him.

"Oh, that?" Ariana waved lazily. "I just skipped sleep for the presentation. Ended up passing out from exhaustion." She flashed a tired smile. "Sorry for worrying you. Let's just head back."

David stared at her for a long moment.

"You're impossible," he muttered under his breath before following her out.