CHAPTER FOUR

I should have known the night would get worse the moment I got those keys from Ariel.

I have worked at GEORGE CORPORATION for more than 2 years now, and I have never seen Mr. Lincoln disoriented, grunting, or sweating profusely.

And somehow, it scared me to see him this way.

It wasn't surprising he was here. Starlight was one of the most luxurious hotels in New York, and Ariel had mentioned seeing him with his clients a couple of times.

I stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do.

Working under someone who, like Mr. Lincoln, makes you hesitate even in situations like this. Like touching him would lead to consequences you can't handle.

I finally got a grip on myself and dropped to my knees beside him.

“Mr. Lincoln! Can you hear me?”

No response. Just the low, strained grunts.

I had to act.

I got up as fast as I could and ran out of the room towards the stairs. Jumping down as quickly as I could, I reached the last stair and practically barged into the restroom.

Thankfully, Ariel was done.

“Hey! Did you give them the keys?” She asked.

I shook my head, rushing past her and grabbing my phone off the sink. “I need to call 911. I found Mr. Lincoln in the hotel room, and he's… he's grunting. I don't even know what's wrong with him. He needs to get to a hospital.”

“What? Oh my God.” She shouted.

I was already dialing.

I tried explaining the situation as best I could, and we both rushed back upstairs. She informed management as we went.

“Oh, my God. This is bad. So bad.” Ariel was starting to panic. “If anything happens to him, we won't be able to bear the consequences.”

I couldn't comfort her.

Something clenched in my chest, tight and suffocating, making my eyes sting.

I shook the thoughts away and quickened my pace. “How long will it take for them to get here?” I asked

She exhaled sharply. “Five minutes. Tops.”

I nodded and barged into the room.

My eyes widened.

“He passed out.”

I dropped to my knees, bending quickly to check his breathing.

“Is he still breathing?” Ariel asked, her voice trembling.

I nodded, forcing myself to stay calm. “He is.”

Some staff had joined, questioning Ariel as we waited for the ambulance, and all I could do was stare at his face.

He was fine hours ago.

What could have gone wrong?

The ambulance arrived, and the paramedic took him aboard.

I followed immediately, barely processing whatever Ariel was saying.

All the while, I battled tears.

Maybe it was because I had been here before. This exact place. Holding my mother's hands as she took her last breath.

Maybe that's why I couldn't let go of his hands even as the paramedic moved around, checking his pulse.

I just couldn't let go.

His large hands engulfed mine, surprisingly warm.

Not as cold as his heart.

If he were awake, he would have given me that cold stare, the kind that makes you wish you had never touched him.

“We're here.”

The doors flew open, and they rushed him out onto a stretcher.

Our hands slipped apart.

They took him inside.

I wasn't allowed to follow. I wasn't family.

So I stood there and breathed.

I rubbed my arms and paced the corridor, unsure of what else to do.

My heartbeat refused to slow.

I dropped onto a bench and buried my face in my hands.

The memories came flooding back.

Mom, lifeless on that hospital bed. I groaned softly, trying to shove it all back down. The fear. The anxiety. The hate.

I don't want to be back there.

“Which hospital room, doctor?” I heard voices and hurried footsteps.

I lift my head.

Mr. Lincoln's stepmother and younger sister were rushing towards the corridor.

Their eyes landed on me, and they stopped.

Their gazes dragged from my head to my toes.

Only then did I become painfully aware of my pajamas and fluffy slippers.

She gasped. “Aren’t you George's secretary?”

I nodded stiffly.

I had only met his family twice. They weren't the worst people, but kind wouldn't be the words I’d use either.

His younger sister, Annie, was the shy one. Always clinging to his arms at dinner.

His stepmother?

She was the type to break a plate at a restaurant and still get the waiter fired.

Annie was beautiful. While Lincoln looked like a storm ready to break, Annie was sunlight. Soft cheeks, long curls.

I instinctively shrank back. I should have just gone home.

She scoffed. “Seriously? Don’t you know about work ethics? And even if you don’t, you should know someone like George is completely out of your league.”

I froze.

Then it hit me.

What she thought this was.

“No, no,” I rushed. “That’s not—”

She cut me off. “So you’re the reason George has refused to get engaged to Sasha Moretto.”

“I swear I'm…”

“Did I ask you to speak?” She threw her bag aside and stepped towards me. “Girls like you should know their place and I'll put you in it.”

Annie and the doctor just watched.

She raised her hand.

Adrenaline snapped through me.

I grabbed her wrist and shoved her arm back with as much strength as I had.

My hand curled into a fist.

“You seriously want to hit me?”

She gasped dramatically, turning to Annie and the doctor. “Did you see that? She just assaulted me.”

I met her gaze head-on, my heart pounding so loudly it rang in my ears.

I pointed toward the corner of the hallway.

“The cameras will show I was defending myself.”

Then I stormed past her.