Chapter Three

ASHVIN

“Mr. Blackwood.”

Ryan's voice came through the phone, sounding far too excited for my liking. I stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the hospital, watching the city move beneath me.

“Speak.”

“We've finally found several companies that are negotiating partnerships with Luna & Co.”

My eyes narrowed at that news.

“The ceramic company?”

“Yes, sir.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. 

Luna & Co. 

That damn company had been irritating me for years. They had appeared out of nowhere six years ago and somehow managed to dominate the luxury ceramic industry almost overnight.

The shareholders wouldn’t let me breathe until I had secured the damn deal, and I had to prove that I could do it better and bigger for me to finally secure full control of Blackwood.

But somehow, despite every resource Blackwood Group had at its disposal, I had never managed to discover who was behind the company.

It was as if the person running Luna & Co. was a fucking ghost. A ghost that was haunting me, but I wasn’t going to stop until I had my hands on that deal.

I bit the inside of my cheek and ran a hand through my hair,

“If Blackwood Group secures the partnership, we could become their exclusive distributor across Asia. Make sure we get it. I don't care what you have to do or how much you spend; just get it. This is the last chance I’m giving you, Ryan; I won’t take excuses!” My voice hardened, and without waiting for a response, I cut the line. 

Placing my phone in my pocket, I walked back into the VVIP hospital room where my grandmother was admitted again because of her asthma, and despite her constant complaints, I wasn't going to stop checking on her. 

She was everything to me, and I wasn’t going to stop till I had that cure.

When I entered the room, I found her sitting upright in bed with a book resting on her lap.

She gave me a once-over and clicked her tongue.

“You again.”

I raised an eyebrow, wondering where the hostility was coming from. This old woman was ever in a mood, I swear.

“Nice to see you too, Nana. I can see your moods have gotten worse.”

“How could they not?” She scoffed, “You came to see me, but all you’ve been doing is take phone calls. I told you not to come. Go to the office you love so much!”

I sighed and walked over to the bed. 

“You're in a very good mood today. Is that why you look even more beautiful? It’s like you’re aging backwards.”

“All that smooth talk yet you’re still single as ever! I'll probably die without seeing my great grandchildren. All you do is burry yourself in work and avoid reality.” She said and I felt something in my heart shift. 

“I don't do that. I'm just busy.” I responded, even though deep down I could feel an ache I couldn’t explain. 

Somehow whenever I was idle, I would feel broken and void like there was an empty space in my heart tearing me and eating me from the inside out. I hated it and no matter how many times I spoke to my doctor about it, he insisted it wasn't a health issue. 

“You should rest more.” I tried to change the topic. 

She scoffed at that, her eyes staring into mine. “I'm in a hospital, Ashvin. What exactly do you think I'm doing?”

She then studied me for a moment before leaning back against the pillow.

“Are you ever going to get married?”

“Where did that question come from?”

“From the fact that you're getting older and from what I can see,” She shook her head, “It’s not looking bright.”

“I’m thirty-five, not eighty.”

“And yet you behave like an eighty-year-old man. You wake up, go to work, come back late, sleep for a few hours, then do it all over again.”

“It's called having responsibilities.”

“No. It's called hiding.”

My smile disappeared, but I remained silent, knowing exactly what she meant.

“I don't have time for relationships.”

“You don't have time because you don't want to make time.”

“Nana—”

“Don't Nana me.”

She pointed at me, her eyes moving as if she could read through me. Sometimes I hated that she knew me so well.

“You've been using work as an excuse for six years.” She sighed, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

“Ever since Evelyn left, you haven’t been the same. It's like you're hollow and it's eating you from the inside.”

My chest suddenly tightened and I pulled my hand from hers and stood.

“I told you I don't want to talk about her.”

“Ashvin—”

“I said enough, Nana!””

My voice came out harsher than I intended. and I instantly regretted it. I turned away from her, pressing a hand against my chest.

That damn feeling again.

The pressure.

The suffocation.

The strange ache that always seemed to appear whenever her name was mentioned.

I loosened the top button of my shirt and took a deep breath, but somehow the air didn't feel like it was reaching my lungs.

What the hell was wrong with me?

It had been six years.

Six fucking years.

Why did one name still have the power to make my chest feel like someone was squeezing the life out of me?

I walked toward the window and stared down at the city.

Maybe it was because her name reminded me that I was a fucking fool who had trusted the wrong woman.

Evelyn had chosen money over me.

After all I had done for her she didn't even have the fucking decency to give me an explanation. 

‘Quitting for personal reasons.’ 

I scoffed. Remembering the letter I found on the desk that still sits there to this day. Maybe I should burn that shit. 

My fingers curled into fists and I locked my jaw so hard I was shocked my teeth didn't snap. It was when I felt a warm hand over mine that I softened.

“I'm sorry, Nana. I didn't mean to snap.”

She gave me a smile and pulled me towards her bed and sat me down, her wrinkled hand playing with my hair like I was four years old again.

“You don't have to forgive her so quickly," she said softly. “But you have to stop letting what she did control your life.”

I looked at her. My brows drawn into confusion,

“I'm not letting anyone or anything control my life. Much less a mere secretary. She worked for me, quit and I hired someone I knew. Simple.” I responded, sounding almost as if I was trying to convince myself. 

“Maybe…” She trailed off and I immediately knew she wasn't letting this go. “If you admit that you have feelings-”

I scoffed, and stood from the chair, fixing my suit.

“I need to speak to your doctor,” I announced and walked out before she could say anything else.

Feelings?

What feelings could I possibly have for a gold digger?

The doctor's office was only a short distance away and I knocked once before walking in.

“Mr. Blackwood.” The doctor stood from his desk when he noticed it was me.

“How is my grandmother?” I asked, getting straight to the point.

“Stable for now.”

“For now?” I asked, feeling my chest squeeze for fear of being told the news I’ve been dreading from the time I could understand what it meant to have Asthma. 

“She needs to be monitored closely. Her asthma has become more difficult to manage.”

“Is there anything else we can do?”

“We're continuing with her current treatment, but we're also making progress with the new medication we've been developing.”

“The trial?”

“Yes.”

I immediately pulled out the chair and sat down.

“When does it begin?”

“It already has.”

My attention sharpened, and I nodded for him to continue,

“We've started the clinical trials. We're gradually bringing in patients who meet the medical requirements.” He reached for a file and slid it in my direction. “Of course your grandmother will be the first on the list as soon as we are sure that it’s very safe and ready for use.”

I nodded and scanned through the list. I wasn’t interested in the other patients; I just wanted my Nana okay. I was about to shut the file when a surname caught my attention.

Carter.

A smile spread across my face as I shook my head. 

The lack of sleep was now getting to me; I was even seeing things now. It couldn’t be her. 

Was I really going to believe that after six years, Evelyn Carter had somehow appeared on a hospital list?

It was ridiculous.

She was gone.

She had demanded money and disappeared.

She had chosen a new life and was probably living her best life if she hadn’t blown up the five million she asked Amanda to give her, but deep down, I hoped she was broke and would come crawling back to me. 

I had a few ideas on how I would make her fucking pay for betraying me.