Chapter 4

I stood by the window, watching as Pierce’s car slowly disappeared from view, a heavy weight settling on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

His unusual behavior kept gnawing at me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something serious had happened.

By noon, I was standing outside Pierce’s office building, carrying a homemade lunch. My steps quickened as I replayed his strange behavior in my mind, my heart racing with anxiety.

I stepped out of the elevator only to see Pierce’s assistant hurrying toward me. Thinking he might have forgotten me after all this time, I was about to introduce myself, but before I could speak, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a corner.

Before I could ask what was going on, the assistant raised a finger to his lips, signaling me to stay quiet and leave.

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering from Pierce’s office made my heart lurch, and I stumbled back a step, panic rising in my chest.

Through the frosted glass, I could make out Pierce’s furious figure, throwing everything off his desk. His violent coughing fit followed as he doubled over, his chest heaving.

What was happening to him?

I moved to rush in, but the assistant blocked my path firmly.

“Miss Lambert, Mr. Donovan is busy. You can’t go in.”

I was frantic now, my voice rising. “Busy? Look at him! Let me in!”

Through the glass door, I saw Pierce leaning over, bracing himself against the desk, struggling to catch his breath.

My worry spiked—was he sick?

I couldn’t understand why the assistant was stopping me. Finally, I yanked free from his grip and pushed the door open, storming into the office.

The assistant followed behind me, panic written all over his face. “I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan, Miss Lambert—she just…”

I raised my hand to cut him off, my eyes widening in disbelief at the scene before me.

The once-pristine office was now a disaster. Shattered glass littered the floor, and everything was thrown into chaos—except for one thing: the photo of Pierce and me from three years ago, still standing perfectly intact on the desk.

Stepping carefully over the shards of broken glass, I made my way to Pierce’s side. My hands trembled with uncertainty, cold sweat slicking my palms as I hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Finally, my cold hand reached out, gently cupping his pale cheek. I whispered softly, trying to soothe him, “It’s okay, I’m here now.”

Pierce slowly closed his eyes, his head dropping weakly.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, supporting his weight as he leaned heavily against me. Though the effort left me unsteady on my feet, I gently patted his back, trying to comfort him.

His breathing was faint, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse and exhausted. “I scared you… I’m sorry.”

There was a deep sense of guilt in his tone.

I stayed quiet, wanting to get closer to him, but as soon as I lifted my foot, I noticed the bright red blood on the ground.