Chapter 5

As Damon prepared to leave the manor, he glanced out the car window. Through the rain, he could see Nyla huddled against the stone wall near the gate.

Her dress was completely soaked, clinging to her body and outlining her curves. Her long hair hung in wet strands around her face, making her look fragile and abandoned.

Damon understood immediately what had happened. He knew Marie and Anne's personalities well. They would never be kind enough to arrange transportation for the niece-in-law they had always disliked.

He turned to his assistant Spencer, who was sitting in the passenger seat. "Get out and hold an umbrella for her."

Spencer immediately grabbed the black umbrella from the floor and stepped out into the rain. He walked quickly toward Nyla while Damon rolled down his window.

"Get in," Damon said to Nyla. His voice was characteristically cold and commanding. "I'll take you home."

Nyla looked up, startled to see it was Damon. She instinctively took a step back, shaking her head. "Uncle Damon, it's okay. The rain will stop soon. I can wait."

She remembered Clark's warnings about how dangerous Damon could be. Clark had specifically told her to keep her distance from his uncle. She didn't want to cause herself any more trouble, especially not tonight.

Damon's brow furrowed when he saw Nyla clearly trying to avoid him. His tone grew deeper and more commanding. "Get in the car. Don't make me repeat myself."

His natural dominance was overwhelming. The way he spoke made it nearly impossible to refuse. Nyla felt her resolve weakening under his intense gaze.

Before she could refuse again, Spencer appeared beside her with the umbrella. He gently took her damp clutch from her trembling hands.

"Ms. Nyla, please get in the car," Spencer said kindly. "This rain will continue for at least another hour. It's very windy out here, and you're not dressed warmly enough. You'll catch pneumonia."

Spencer's tone was gentle and concerned. Nyla glanced up at the dark storm clouds, then down at her completely soaked dress. Water was still dripping from her hair. She was starting to shiver uncontrollably.

Finally, biting her lip, she opened the car door and slid inside.

The interior of the Rolls-Royce was warm and luxurious. Soft leather seats and the faint scent of expensive cologne filled the space. Nyla immediately felt the temperature difference.

Damon glanced at her wet dress, which was now clinging even more tightly to her body. The fabric had become almost transparent. He could see the outline of her undergarments. His throat tightened involuntarily.

Without a word, he took off his dark gray suit jacket and tossed it to her.

"Thank you," Nyla murmured, quickly pulling the jacket around her shoulders. It was still warm from his body heat and smelled like his cologne. The scent was surprisingly comforting. "I'll have it cleaned and return it to you."

"Just throw it away," Damon replied coldly. His tone carried casual arrogance, as if the expensive jacket meant nothing to him.

The car pulled away from the manor and drove smoothly through the rainy night. Silence settled between them. Nyla huddled in the corner of the backseat, not daring to look at the powerful man beside her. She could feel an oppressive aura radiating from him. It made her unconsciously nervous.

She stole a glance at his profile. His jaw was sharp and perfectly defined. His dark hair was styled impeccably despite the rain. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was nothing like Clark, who was gentle and approachable. Damon seemed dangerous.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of Nyla's house. She quickly gathered herself and reached for the door handle.

"Thank you so much for the ride," she said hurriedly, leaving his jacket on the seat. "I really appreciate it."

Damon watched her disappear inside the house. The faint scent of jasmine perfume still lingered in the car where she had been sitting.

He found himself breathing it in deeply. His body reacted involuntarily to her proximity.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "She's your nephew's wife," he warned himself silently. "Control yourself."

As soon as Nyla entered her house, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Her body began to feel hot despite her wet clothes. Her head felt heavy and confused.

Before she could even change out of her soaked dress, everything went black. She collapsed in the living room.

When Nyla woke up, she found herself lying in a hospital bed. The room smelled strongly of disinfectant, but the bedside table was covered with familiar treats.

Strawberry shortcake, colorful macarons, handmade chocolates, and a large bouquet of pink roses.

"Ma'am, you're finally awake!" A nurse appeared beside her bed, looking relieved. "You've had a high fever for over twenty-four hours. Mr. Summer was so worried. He stayed by your bedside the entire time. He only left an hour ago because of an emergency call."

The nurse checked Nyla's temperature with a digital thermometer. "Do you want me to call him? He'll be so happy to know you're conscious."

Looking at the familiar arrangement of gifts, Nyla felt her heart soften despite everything. She had always been prone to illness and had a terrible fear of injections and medication.

Whenever she was sick, Clark would do exactly this. He would buy all her favorite treats and flowers, hoping to cheer her up and speed her recovery. It had become their tradition over the years.

These sweet memories made her chest ache with confusion. How could the man who cheated on her be the same person who spent the night worried beside her hospital bed?

"Where is he now?" Nyla asked, pushing herself up in bed. "I want to find him myself."

The nurse smiled. "He's somewhere in the hospital taking care of business."

She left her room and walked down the sterile hospital corridor.

As she rounded the corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There was Clark, coming out of the obstetrics and gynecology department. But he wasn't alone. A woman walked beside him, her hand resting protectively on her belly.