Chapter 6

Nicole's POV

I freeze. The blood pressure cuff slips from my fingers and hits the floor with a soft thud.

Alex's words hit me hard like a blow to the face. My heart pounds so fast, I'm sure he can hear it.

"I…I don't know what you mean," I struggle to speak.

"Nicole." The way he says my name makes my chest tighten. Like he's so sure. Like he's been waiting for this moment since I walked through his door.

I take my time to pick up the cuff, trying to buy myself time to come up with an excuse.

I get up, but he's still watching me with those dark blue eyes that see too much.

"That night at the Meridian Hotel," he says quietly. "Three months ago. You wore a green dress. You laughed when I spilled wine on my shirt during dinner."

The memory hit me like a wave. I'd gone there to celebrate finishing nursing school. I remember the way he looked at me across the crowded room. How we'd talked until the bar closed, then went up to his room.

I still remember his touch, the way his scent clung to me, the way his hands moved like I was something fragile, something worth cherishing.

"I remember," I whisper, finally giving in.

"Then why?" His voice softens,"Why did you walk in here and act like you'd never seen me before?"

I feel the ache in his words. I want to tell him the truth, but the words feel too dangerous. Mrs. Henderson's warnings echo in my head. The Four P's. Professional boundaries. Don't get personally involved.

"I need this job," I finally manage to speak.

Alex's jaw tightens. "You think I'd fire you because we slept together?"

Heat rushes through my cheeks. "I think rich men have a lot of power over people like me. And I can't afford to find out what you'd do."

Something flickers across his face. Hurt, maybe. Or disappointment. But it makes my stomach twist with guilt.

"People like you," he repeats slowly. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm nobody, Alex. I'm a nurse who lives paycheck to paycheck and can barely afford my mom's medical bills. You're..." I gesture helplessly at the mansion around us, the expensive furniture, the casual wealth that drips from every corner. "You're you. This whole world belongs to you."

"That doesn't mean I'd hurt you."

"How is it that I coincidentally became your nurse? You must have known about my financial situation. You used my desperation to get me here."

He doesn't deny it. The silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Yes," he says finally. "I did."

I had my suspicions, but hearing him admitting it out loud makes it real in a way that hurts.

“And you expect me to trust you? I may need this job, but that doesn’t change the fact that I feel used.”

Alex leans forward in his wheelchair, his hands gripping the armrests.

"What I am? You mean the gang leader? The criminal?"

"I mean someone who gets what he wants no matter the cost. Someone who manipulates situations to his advantage." My voice is steadier now, even though my heart is still racing. "Someone who could destroy my entire life with a phone call."

"I wouldn't—"

"You already did." The words spill out before I can stop them. "You used my mother's illness to manipulate me into taking this job. That night at the hotel, did you know who I was then too?"

His eyes widen slightly. "No. That was... that was real."

"Was it? Or was it part of some elaborate plan?"

"Nicole, I swear to you, I had no idea who you were that night."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly it hurts. But wanting something doesn't make it true.

"It doesn't matter," I say quietly. "Real or not, that night is over. This is my reality now. I need this job, Alex. My mother is dying, and her treatments cost more than I make in six months. I can't afford to lose this position because we have history."

"So that's it? We pretend we're strangers?"

"We are strangers. One night doesn't make us anything more than that."

Alex stares at me for a long moment.

"I felt something that night," he says quietly. "Something I haven't felt in a long time. Maybe something I've never felt. When I realized you were going to be my nurse, I thought... I thought maybe it was fate or something equally stupid."

My chest tightens. "Alex, don't."

"You felt it too. I know you did."

"It doesn't matter what I felt."

"It's the only thing that matters."

"No." I shake my head firmly. "What matters is keeping this professional. What matters is me doing my job and you recovering from your injury. That's all this can be."

His hands clench into fists against the wheelchair's armrests. "And if I told you to leave? Right now. If I fired you?"

My face turns pale. "You wouldn't."

"Why not? If you're so convinced I'm a manipulative bastard who uses people, why wouldn't I punish you for rejecting me?"

I lift my chin, facing confidence even though my body trembles. "Because you're not as cruel as you want people to think you are. That night at the hotel, I saw who you really are underneath all the walls you've built. You might be ruthless, but you're not heartless."

I could see his expression shift.

"You think you know me," he says.

"I think you showed me pieces of yourself that night that most people never see. And I think that scares you almost as much as it scares me."

"I won't fire you," he says finally. I let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Your mother needs those treatments, and you're a good nurse. But I can't pretend that night didn't happen, Nicole. I can't pretend I don't want more."

"Alex..."

"I know. Professional boundaries. The job comes first." He turns his wheelchair toward the window, away from me. "But I meant what I said. I felt something that night, and I think you did too. One day, maybe you'll trust me enough to admit it."

I collect my things quietly, but I can feel his gaze following me all the way to the door.

At the door, I pause for a moment. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About pretending not to know you. You deserved better than that."

I slip out of the room and close the door behind me, then lean against the wall in the hallway. My legs are trembling, like I've just run a marathon.

The conversation replays in my head as I make my way through the mansion's quiet corridors.

I can't afford to lose this job. Watching my mother die because I couldn't afford her treatments – that would destroy me completely.

I have to believe I made the right choice. I have to believe that keeping things professional is the only way to protect both of us.

Even if it feels like I just threw away the best thing that could have happened to me.