Chapter 12 - I Wasn't Asking

Aria's POV 

I woke up to the sharp, clean smell of disinfectant.

For a moment I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling above me was white and unfamiliar. Soft light came through half-drawn curtains. When I tried to turn my head, a dull throb spread across my temple. My fingers brushed against a bandage.

“Easy.”

The voice was low and controlled. I turned carefully and found Julian sitting in a chair beside the narrow bed. His dark suit jacket was gone, sleeves rolled up, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach tighten.

“What… happened?” I asked, my voice rough.

“You fainted in my office,” he said. “Hit your head on the way down. You’re in the estate clinic. The doctor already checked you once while you were out. He’s coming back now.”

The memory returned in fragments: the dizziness, the shelf, the floor rushing up, his voice calling my name. I closed my eyes for a second.

“How do you feel?” Julian asked.

I let out a weak breath. “Like I’ve been knocked by a truck.”

Before he could respond, the door opened and a man in a white coat stepped in. Tall, calm, mid-forties, the kind of doctor who clearly knew the family well.

“She’s awake,” he said, moving to the side of the bed. He checked my pulse, then shone a small light into my eyes. “Follow my finger. Good. Any nausea?”

“A little,” I admitted.

“Blurred vision?”

“When I first opened my eyes. It’s better now.”

“Headache?”

“Yes. Behind my eyes mostly.”

The doctor nodded and made a note. “Mild concussion, significant exhaustion, and a cold she pushed through for too long. Her body simply gave out. Blood pressure was low when she was brought in. She needs rest, fluids, medication, and actual sleep. No work for at least three to four days. Longer if the headache doesn’t improve.”

Panic flickered through me the moment I heard the words. Evelyn’s face rose in my mind.

“I can’t,” I said, already trying to sit up. “I have work. Mrs. Vance will—”

Julian’s hand settled firmly on my shoulder, stopping me.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

His voice was quiet but sharp enough to cut through my protest.

“I have to,” I insisted. “If I don’t show up she’ll—”

“Aria.” The way he said my name made me freeze. “Look at me.”

I did.

“You will stay in bed and recover. That is not a request. You will be properly taken care of until the doctor clears you. Do you understand?”

“But—”

“Do you understand?” he repeated, colder this time.

I swallowed. “Yes.”

The doctor glanced between us, then spoke again. “I’ll leave medication for the pain and the cold. Someone should check on her every few hours tonight. If the headache gets worse or she becomes confused, call me immediately.”

Julian nodded once. “I’ll make sure of it.”

After the doctor left, silence settled over the small clinic room. Julian remained seated, watching me as if he were still assessing the damage.

“Why didn’t you say anything yesterday?” he asked quietly. “When I saw you in the hallway. You were already sick.”

I looked down at the blanket. “It didn’t seem important.”

“You could barely stand.”

“I’ve been worse.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not an answer.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

A moment later, he stood, pulled out his phone, and stepped a few feet away. His voice, when he spoke, was low and controlled but left no room for argument.

“Mother. Sienna. Aria is not to be given any work for the next several days. She is recovering under medical orders. If either of you has a problem with that, you can take it up with me directly.”

A short pause.

“I wasn’t asking.”

He ended the call without waiting for a reply and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Later that evening, after more water and medication, Julian helped me out of the clinic. The walk back to the staff wing felt longer than usual. My legs were still unsteady, and he stayed close without touching me unless I needed support.

When he opened the door to my room, I stopped in the doorway.

The space looked different. The floor was clean. Fresh sheets and a thicker blanket covered the bed. The air no longer smelled of damp and dust. Lila was sitting on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, clearly waiting.

Julian stepped inside only long enough to set the medication down and glance around once.

“If you need anything,” he said, looking at me, “tell Lila. She knows how to reach me. Rest. That’s an order.”

Then he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

The moment he was gone, Lila turned to me with wide eyes.

“Okay, what was that?” she demanded. “Because I’ve worked in this house for almost two years and that is the first time I’ve ever seen him personally make sure a staff member got medical care, new bedding, and warn his own mother off. First time.”

I carefully sat down on the clean bed. “He’s just being considerate. He was there when I fainted. That’s all. A man like him doesn’t actually care about a maid.”

Lila raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile tugging at her mouth.

“We’ll see,” she said.