5

BRANDON

I really should've let the driver do his job.

One second I was downing shots at the bar and the next, I was here, hands clutching the wheels tightly as my heart pounded heavily in my chest.

I wasn't supposed to drive drunk. 

The shitty bastard I called my driver just happened to get on my nerves too damn often so I flipped the pages. 

I sent him back to the mansion and drove even if I could barely make out my surroundings.

And now, I ran into a lady.

I rushed out of my car instantly, my heart thumping heavily in my chest. When I got close enough, I bent over and reached for her. 

I stared down at her.

She had a slender figure. She was barely conscious but I could still hear the ragged breathing puffing out of her nostrils. 

“Help.”

I bent over immediately the moment I heard her whisper.

I grabbed her arm slowly before raising her into my grip. I almost didn't know what to do. If it weren't for the gigantic hospital building right in front of me, my brain would've blanked out.

I rushed towards it. 

The security guards allowed me in the moment they caught sight of me. 

“You can hand her over, Mr Brandon.”

Just as his heavy baritone voice beamed, I felt her quiver in my arms, and her breath hitched. “Help.”

Her voice rolled out again.

I stared back at the guard reaching for her and shot him a death glare. “Go get an emergency team or get the hell out of my face.”

“B-but s—”

 I shook my head slowly before raising my gaze back up to meet his and as they connected, the bastard turned, running off.

I kept moving regardless. And when I got into the reception, I noticed the amount of eyes that flung in my direction.

“Is that Brandon steel of Steele Conglomerates?”

“It seems so. I can't believe it. He looks far more sexy in person. Oh heavens how I wish he'd look at me.”

“Shh. Don't you know he can hear you?”

“I don't care, Layla. I'll shoot my shot either way.”

I lost it at that.

“Are you going to do your job or keep eye fucking me?”

I yelled and the shameless nurses in front of me jumped in fear. They immediately adjusted.

One rushed to grab the call phone on the counter and didn't hesitate to speak.

“I need the emergency team to come over to the reception. ASAP.”

Another turned to me, eyed me for the longest second before moving her lips. 

“I-i’ll need you to communicate the details to me sir. I-i need to take notes for d—”

I didn't let her finish, I cut right in hastily.

“It was an accident. I ran into the lady while she was trying to make it to the other side of the road.”

Just as I was about to continue, she quivered again. “Help.”

Her voice rolled out. Soft.

Vulnerable.

Pleading.

“She needs help!”

I yelled.

An ER team rushed in through the hallway with a stretcher. I let go of her when they got close enough and as I was about to pull back, she gripped my shirt, not letting go.

“Help.”

I heard that word again from the same soft voice.

“Ma'am we're here to help. You can let go now. You're in safe hands.”

“Let go.”

I added, my voice soft.

Her fingers finally released their grip of the handful of my cloth she held on to and as she settled on the stretcher, the ER team started wheeling her away.

I followed them. I was surprised I could still make this much movement with the amount of alcohol I'd downed earlier tonight.

Something about that accident scarred me.

Whipped my head right out of the tipsiness I was supposed to be feeling and set it straight. I kept running, trying to meet up with the stretcher's speed.

When we got to a turn, I noticed the glowing ER sign at the other end of the room.

“Help.”

My lips trembled. “You're going to get help. Just keep calm.”

When we finally got to the other end of the road, I stared up at the sign and dragged in a low breath before lowering my gaze back to find bright red gleams splashed over her features. 

As I stared at her, I couldn't help but notice a mark on the side of her neck.

“You can stay behind, Mr B-bran.”

The feminine voice of one of the nurses quivered when it got to my name.

I ignored it.

I'd gotten used to that since the day I hit the limelight as the Steele family's heir. The media were left on a chokehold when I was finally revealed to the public as the successor of the Steele Conglomerates.

I was raised in shadows, hidden away from the media lights ever since five. And when I graduated business school, I was revealed as the successor and let out for the media gaze.

Fuck all of that, the lady I'd just ran into needed help.

“Mr B-brandon?”

The feminine voice in the voice called again, yanking me out of thoughts. I immediately step aside, giving them the permission to do their job.

“Protect my Chloe”

That was the last thing she said. 

My heart jumped when I heard her words. I expected the usual ‘help’ but she'd just said something different.

Something strange.

Something I couldn't fathom.

And that had me on a chokehold. 

As the doors closed, I dug my fingers into my pockets and searched for my phone. When I finally brought it back out, I dialed my assistant's number.

He picked up right away. 

“I’ve been trying to call you for ages Brandon. I'm guessing you are calling to tell me how well the date I set up with Patricia Nash went and that you didn't ditch her after claiming you wanted to ease yourself at the male restroom. Tell me that Brandon. Tell me.”

I could hear the rage in his voice. 

It'd have soothed me to hear him rant over the line but it didn't. At least not now.

“You know how I like my ladies, Jay. The chick, P—”

“Patricia.” He corrected me.

I nodded. “Patricia was two at best. Boring. Bland. I shouldn't have to go on, Jay. I love my ladies wild.”

“I'll fix up another date tomorrow. Brunch. I will try t—”

I cut in. “Scratch that. I have something more important. I have a task for you to carry out.”

“What could possibly be more important than getting settled before your birthday. You know the clause your parents set in their will. Get married before 30 or lose everything to charity.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Like I said, scratch all of that, I'm in a bit of a pickle. I ran into a lady. Helped her into a hospital and made sure she's getting treated. I caught the sight of a sign at the side of her neck. It is the same as the one in the mural paintings in the mansion.”

“I need you to help me find out everything about her. She also mentioned something about me protecting a girl. Ivy?”

I went on.

Jay let out a tired groan on the other end.

“Of course I will need her name.”

I scratched my scalp, trying to think of something.

Nothing came.

When a nurse with a file in her grip stopped in front of me, I heaved. “I'm guessing you also need her name?”

She shook her head. “We recognized her as a patient discharged earlier today.”

“If you don't mind me asking what's her name?”

“Jenna Pascal.”

I gripped my phone tighter. “You hear that? Her name is Jenna Pascal. Get every detail you can of her and forward them to me.”

I ended the call so he wouldn't be able to rant over the line. 

“We'll need you to sign here and here sir.”

I took the pen she stretched over to me and signed with the lady's words still ringing in my head.

Protect my Chloe

Who was Ivy?

A sister? A daughter?

I'd find out soon. 

And that Mark I saw at the side of her neck. It had to mean something. I'd seen it before.

In a painting hanging against the wall of my parent's mansion. 

It had to mean something.

I just hadn't figured it out yet.