Chapter 4

Nicole's POV

I struggle to think straight after the morning session.

I pace up and down in my room. Why is he pretending not to know me?

How long does he intend to play this game?

Everything is just confusing when it comes to Alex.

But there’s something about David that makes so free around him. Maybe it’s the way he smiles when he talks, like nothing in the world could be so serious that it can’t be softened with charm. Or maybe it’s that he actually listens when I speak. Either way, it feels dangerously easy to like him.

Alex is always cold, distant and always unreadable.

I head to the dining room for breakfast. I usually have a morning session with Alex before breakfast.

I walk in expecting the usual awkward silence, Alex’s stony face, Megan’s cool disdain. But it’s David who greets me first, raising his coffee mug like a toast.

“Nicole. Finally, someone civilized to join me.”

The warmth in his voice takes me off guard, and before I can stop myself, I laugh. “Good morning.”

He gestures to the chair beside him. “Sit. Eat. Don’t mind Megan, she’s allergic to conversation before noon.”

Megan doesn’t even bother to look up from her tablet, but the faint roll of her eyes says enough. I take the seat, and to my surprise, David starts asking about me. Not the shallow kind of small talk people use to fill silence, but real questions. Where I studied. What kind of patients I liked working with. Whether I’ve ever thought of traveling abroad. He listens with the kind of ease that makes me want to keep talking. For a moment, it almost feels normal. Like I’m not in a mansion crawling with guards, motorcycles roaring outside.

Then Alex enters, and the air changes instantly.

David leans back, and I freeze like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. Alex doesn’t greet anyone. He doesn’t even look at me. He just wheels into place at the head of the table, his jaw tight, his face emotionless. The rest of breakfast passes in silence so heavy I can feel it pressing against my chest. And yet, the entire time, I feel him there. Not watching me directly, but close enough that I can’t ignore it.

After that, David makes a habit of finding me. In the kitchen while I’m fixing tea, in the garden when I’m trying to steal a breath of air, in the hallway when I’m carrying my bag to Alex’s room. He teases me about my “serious nurse face.” He makes jokes about how Alex has probably been scarier than usual because of me. He tells me stories about when they were kids, most of which end with him laughing and Megan shaking her head. It’s… nice. Too nice.

At least I can talk to someone normal, without feeling like I'm going crazy.

Because while David is easy, Alex grows colder.

He doesn’t speak unless it’s an order. He doesn’t even look at me unless it’s to remind me of my place. Sometimes, when David makes me laugh, I catch the faintest flicker in Alex’s eyes before he turns away. His jaw will tighten, his fingers will flex against the wheels of his chair. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Not quite jealousy, but something close enough to burn.

One night, unable to sleep, I decide to walk the hallways to clear my head. The mansion feels too big, too quiet, every corner heavy with shadows. That’s when I hear voices bleeding out from Alex’s study, low, and meant to stay private. I pause near the slightly cracked door, my pulse rising before I even realize I’m eavesdropping.

“You scared her off at dinner,” David says, his voice light but edged. “Keep this up and she’ll quit.”

Alex’s reply is a growl. “She won’t quit. She can’t.”

My hand tightens on the banister.

David speaks again, softer this time. “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you? The crash.”

My heart stumbles.

Alex’s voice becomes colder than I’ve ever heard it. “It wasn’t an accident.”

The words slam into me.

David exhales sharply. “You can’t know that.”

“I do know,” Alex snaps. “The brakes didn’t just fail. Someone tampered with my bike. Someone wanted me dead.”

My stomach churns.

They keep talking, but I can’t make out the rest. My ears are ringing too loudly, my chest too tight. All I know is the weight of those words pressing down on me. Someone tried to kill him. And now I’m standing in the middle of his house, pretending this is just another job, when clearly it’s not.

The next morning, I walk into our therapy session with that conversation still haunting me. Alex is already waiting, sleeves rolled up, arms tense against the wheels of his chair. His eyes flick to me, unreadable, and I feel my stomach knot.

I set my bag down, my voice more brittle than I mean it to be. “We’ll start with your range of motion.”

He doesn’t answer. Just offers his arm like I’m a nuisance.

I guide him through the stretches, careful, professional, but my mind won’t stop replaying his words. Someone wanted me dead. His muscles are stiff, refusing to yield, and I murmur, “You need to relax or the joints will lock up.”

“I said I’m fine.” His tone, sharp.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying again. “You’re not fine. If you’d just cooperate”

He yanks his arm free from my hands, his voice sharp enough to sting. “Don’t tell me what I am.”

The words hurt deeper than I expect, and something in me snaps. “Then stop acting like this is punishment. I’m here to help you, Alex. You think you’re scaring me off? You’re not. But you are making me regret saying yes to this job.”

His eyes lift to mine, and for the first time since I’ve been here, his mask cracks. Anger flashes through, but there’s something else beneath it, something raw, something he’s fighting to bury. For a heartbeat, it feels like the room itself can’t hold the tension between us.

The silence is so heavy, I could hear the sound of a pin drop.

And that’s when I realize…I might be falling for him.

I try to shake it off, but my body is telling me otherwise.