Chapter 12

Daphne didn’t say a word.

Not when the door swung open.

Not when she took in the space between us. The distance wasn’t enough.

Not even when her eyes flicked down to my hand—still resting on the desk, just inches from his.

She only smiled.

Tight. Poised. Diamond-cut cruelty behind perfect lipstick.

Isaac didn’t flinch.

He turned to her like she was no more than a detail. A shadow on the wall.

“Gabriella,” he said calmly, “you’re excused.”

It wasn’t a dismissal.

It was a warning. A shield. A way out before things got bloody.

I didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

For a breath, I just stood there—watching Daphne watch me like a piece she hadn’t quite figured out how to remove from the board.

I nodded once and turned.

Her perfume hit me in the hallway—sweet, cloying, expensive. She didn’t follow.

But her silence did.

It followed me all the way to the front steps.

The hospital smelled the same.

Bleach. Burnt coffee. Cheap soap and something metallic beneath.

I hadn’t meant to come here, but my legs had a mind of their own. I just needed something real. The steady chaos of this place had always offered that.

James found me in the hallway by the vending machines.

He didn’t smile when he approached. He just stopped beside me, hands in his pockets, concern lining his eyes.

“I heard,” he said.

I blinked. “Heard what?”

“That you’re living at Langton’s estate now.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Private contract. Nurse to the billionaire.”

So the rumor mill was still running.

I didn’t confirm or deny. I just looked past him toward the trauma wing, where someone was shouting for gloves.

He shifted closer, voice low.

“Gabby… you sure this is smart?”

My eyes slid back to his. Steady. Quiet. Waiting.

He went on, softer now. “I know men like him. Not because I’ve met them—but because I’ve seen what power does. It consumes. And it doesn’t care what it burns through.”

There was something honest in his voice. Raw.

But it wasn’t just about Isaac.

James looked at me like I was standing at the edge of a cliff—and he couldn’t reach me.

“I’m not judging,” he added quickly. “I just… I care. And maybe it’s not my place, but you’ve never exactly looked my way, so I guess I just—needed to say it.”

The words hung in the air.

“You never look my way.”

I looked at him then.

Kind face. Steady hands. The one person who had stayed soft around me, even when I was all jagged edges.

And yet…

“I’m sorry,” I said.

That was all I could offer.

Because whatever part of me should’ve wanted James… didn’t.

Not in the way he needed.

His shoulders dropped, just a little. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I figured.”

But he didn’t walk away.

He just stood there beside me in the hospital corridor—like some silent attempt to stay close, even if the space between us had already widened.

I glanced toward the waiting area.

That’s when I noticed him.

A man in a gray coat. Sitting near the vending machines. Mid-forties, maybe. Glasses that caught the ceiling light just enough to shield his eyes. He wasn’t reading the paper in his hands—he was looking at me.

Not overtly.

But I felt it.

Like when you know you’re being watched even before you see the face.

I turned slightly, and the moment my eyes met his—he looked away. Too fast.

It prickled under my skin.

James followed my gaze. “You know him?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Probably nothing.”

But I wasn’t sure.

And when I checked again, the man was gone.

—

It was dusk when I finally left the hospital.

I didn’t ask for a driver. I needed the air. The walk. The silence between places.

I kept to the quiet streets near the estate, coat pulled tight, bag slung over one shoulder. The sky was streaked with bruised gold and deepening gray.

The Langton house wasn’t far.

And still—something felt off.

The air held weight.

Footsteps behind me.

I stopped.

Listened.

Nothing.

I turned down a narrower path that cut through the trees bordering the estate—faster, a shortcut.

A bad decision.

The moment I stepped into the hollow, the crack of movement came too close.

Then a hand—rough, gloved—clamped over my mouth.

I kicked, struggled, and twisted hard—

But I was dragged backward into the brush, breath caught in my throat.

Another figure appeared from the left, raising something dark and heavy—

A flash of metal.

Gun.

I bit down hard on the hand over my mouth and elbowed whoever was behind me. He cursed, shoved me forward.

I stumbled, falling to my knees—my scream barely formed when a voice shouted—

“Gabriella!”

James.

He followed me?

I didn’t even see where he came from—he just launched out of the shadows, tackling the man closest to me, throwing a punch that landed with a sickening crack.

I scrambled back, hands shaking.

Then—

Bang.

A shot exploded in the trees.

James dropped.

His body jerked hard and collapsed near my feet, blood blooming from his thigh like spilled ink.

“No—James—”

I barely had time to react before the man with the gun turned to me again, gun raised—

A car engine revved. Tires skidded over gravel—

Headlights flooded the woods like fire.

The attacker flinched, cursed, and bolted into the trees.

But all I saw was James, bleeding out on the ground, eyes tight with pain.

I dropped to my knees beside him, trying to stop the blood with my bare hands.

“Stay with me,” I whispered. “Stay with me, please—”

His hand gripped mine, weak but steady.

“I told you…” He muttered, teeth clenched. “I told you… people like him… bring danger.”