Chapter 4: The mysterious Grant

"Dad! Dad, please, wake up!"

I dropped to my knees so hard the impact sent a painful shockwave up my legs. My hands flew to his shoulders, shaking him. His head lolled lifelessly against the kitchen cabinets. His lips were already turning a terrifying shade of blue.

All my nursing school training completely vanished, replaced by the raw, blinding panic of a terrified daughter.

My trembling fingers scrambled for my phone on the counter. I dialed 911, screaming our address at the dispatcher before hanging up and frantically dialing the only other person I trusted.

She picked up on the first ring. *"Hey, I was just about to—"*

"Mia!" I sobbed, pressing two trembling fingers to my dad's neck. His pulse was impossibly weak, fluttering like a dying bird. "Mia, it's his heart! He collapsed!"

*"I'm on my way,"* Mia’s voice instantly dropped all its usual chaos, turning to pure, focused steel. *"I’m calling a cab. I will meet you at the hospital. Keep breathing, Grace. Keep him breathing!"*

The next twenty minutes were an absolute nightmare.

The paramedics rushed into the kitchen, loaded him onto a stretcher, and drove us through the pouring rain with the sirens blaring. By the time we arrived at the overcrowded city hospital, my hands were covered in his cold sweat, and I was shaking violently.

They wheeled him behind a set of heavy double doors.

"You have to wait here, miss," a nurse ordered, physically blocking me from following them.

"But I'm his daughter! I'm a nursing student, I can—"

"Wait in the lobby," she said firmly, closing the doors in my face.

I collapsed into a hard plastic waiting room chair, burying my face in my hands. I couldn't lose him. I couldn't.

"Grace!"

I looked up just as Mia sprinted through the ER sliding doors, her dark hair soaking wet from the rain. She didn't ask questions. She just dropped into the chair next to me, wrapped her arms fiercely around my shoulders, and pulled me into her side.

An hour passed. Then two.

Finally, a tired-looking doctor in a white coat walked through the double doors, looking down at a clipboard.

"Family of Daniel Zane?"

I shot up, Mia right beside me. "That's me. I'm his daughter. Is he okay?"

The doctor sighed heavily. "He is stabilized for now, but his heart failure has reached a critical stage. He needs a highly specialized cardiac bypass. We don't have the equipment or the specialists required for that kind of surgery at this facility."

"Then transfer him!" I pleaded, my voice cracking. "Please!"

"Miss Zane, a transfer to a specialized cardiac center requires an upfront medical deposit of over two hundred thousand dollars, plus approval from a board of surgeons. We are trying to find options, but right now..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

A suffocating, black despair swallowed me whole. He was going to die. My dad was going to die because we didn't have the money. I buried my face in Mia's shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, the heavy glass doors of the emergency room slid open.

The low hum of the waiting room immediately died.

I lifted my tear-stained face. Walking into the chaotic hospital lobby, radiating an aura of absolute, terrifying authority, was General Alexander Reeves. He was in his dark uniform, tall and uncompromising. Right behind him was Colonel Ethan Brooks carrying a sleek black suitcase.

Alexander's sharp gray eyes scanned the room, instantly locking onto me.

He didn't rush. He walked over with calm, measured steps.

As he approached, Mia stood up straight. She didn't back away. She looked the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces dead in the eye, gave him a firm, deeply respectful nod, and gently squeezed my shoulder before taking a step back to give us space.

Alexander looked down at me. The harsh, unyielding lines of his jaw softened just a fraction.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a clean, perfectly folded white handkerchief, and held it out.

"Breathe, Grace," he commanded softly.

I took the handkerchief with trembling fingers, wiping my eyes. "H-How did you know we were here?"

"I was informed," Alexander answered bluntly. I received a medical alert. Ethan tracked the ambulance."

Before I could say another word, Alexander subtly tilted his head toward Ethan. Ethan gave a tiny nod and quietly slipped away, walking straight toward the hospital administration desk.

"My dad," I whispered, my voice breaking as I looked up at Alexander's towering frame. "His heart is failing. They said he needs a specialized hospital, but it costs so much money. I don't know what to do."

Alexander held my gaze. "He will be fine."

"You don't understand," I sobbed, my natural shynesss completely overwhelmed by my grief. “I can't afford it . He's going to..."

"Miss Zane!"

The doctor from earlier suddenly rushed back through the double doors, looking completely bewildered, staring at a new piece of paper on his clipboard.

"Miss Zane, I... I don't understand it, but a bed just opened up," the doctor stammered, looking shocked. "An anonymous military medical grant just accepted his case. It covers absolutely everything. He is being transferred to the Central Military VIP Wing immediately!"

My jaw dropped. "What? A grant? Are you serious?!"

"The medevac team is prepping him right now," the doctor smiled widely. "It's a miracle."

The doctor hurried away to coordinate the transfer.

I covered my mouth, fresh tears of pure, unadulterated relief spilling over my cheeks. A grant. A miracle grant.

I looked up at Alexander. He didn't smile. His expression remained entirely stoic, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Was he the one behind it” I thought

No, definitely not

I haven't even agreed to the contract

"He's going to live," I whispered, barely able to believe it.

"He is," Alexander agreed quietly. "But the stress of your future is what is destroying his heart, Grace. As long as he worries about leaving you alone, his health will continue to decline."

I looked down at the floor. "I_I know."

Alexander stepped slightly closer. His massive frame blocked out the rest of the chaotic hospital, creating a private, intimidating bubble around us.

"My father asked me to step in," Alexander said, his low, gravelly voice meant only for me. "But I am offering you this arrangement for a different reason."

I swallowed hard, clutching the handkerchief. "What-what reason?"l said shakily

"My grandmother, Eleanor," Alexander stated, his tone flat and entirely businesslike. "She is the matriarch of my family. Her health is fragile, and her dying wish is to see me married and settled. She will not rest until I have a wife."

I stared at him, my mind spinning. "So... you want a marriage contract to appease your grandmother?"

"Yes. One year.”

"And-and in return?" I asked softly.

"In return, you fall under my protection," Alexander said, his gray eyes locking onto mine with fierce intensity. "Your father will have absolute peace of mind knowing you are secure. That peace of mind will keep him alive."

I looked at the terrifying, dominant warlord offering me a lifeline. He was right. If my dad knew I was safe, he would stop stressing. He would rest.

"But there is one strict condition," Alexander warned, his voice dropping to a low, serious register.

I shrank back slightly, intimidated by the sudden intensity in his eyes. "What condition?"

"Grandmother Eleanor is highly intuitive," Alexander said bluntly. "She believes in love. If she discovers this is a business arrangement, it will break her heart. This contract is strictly between you, me, and our fathers. As far as Eleanor and the rest of the world are concerned... we are deeply, genuinely in love. Do you understand?"

I looked at the emergency room doors where my dad was being prepped for transport. I thought of my nightmare.

I couldn't lose him.

I took a deep breath, pushing my shyness down as far as it would go. I looked up at the General.

"I understand," I whispered.

Alexander held my gaze for one more second, searching my eyes for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he gave a single, rigid nod.

"Ethan," Alexander barked, slipping instantly back into his cold military persona.

Ethan, who had silently returned from the administration desk, snapped to attention. "Sir?"

"Bring the car to the front. We are escorting my fiancée home."