Page 55

The car sped closer, seconds from impact, yet the stubborn man stood his ground. He refused to let her crash, even if it meant getting hurt himself.
At the last second, she yanked the wheel, swerving hard to the side.
But the road ahead was blocked. A solid wall loomed in her path.
And just as she braced for the crash—Christian’s car slammed into the back of hers.
The impact sent both cars skidding. Metal crunched, tires screeched, glass shattered.
She didn’t hit the wall.
Christian had slammed into the back of her car at the last second, forcing it to turn—taking control when she couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her crash. Wouldn’t let her get hurt.
Even if it meant wrecking himself in the process.
And when everything settled, amidst the wreckage, there were two cars.
Two people.
And blood everywhere.
***
“Christian?!” Ivy's eyes snapped open, a sharp pain shooting through her head. The buried scream from the accident—the sight of him ramming into her car—seemed to finally break free from her lips.
She looked around frantically. The sterile white walls, the faint beeping of machines—she was in a hospital. Her body ached, wrapped in bandages. Hospital clothes covered her bruised skin, and she could feel the scratch marks on her neck.
Hearing her voice, Celia jumped to her feet and rushed to her bedside. “Hey, I’m here. It’s alright.”
"Where is Christian?" Ivy demanded, scrambling out of the bed despite the pain shooting through her body. She didn’t care. "Where is he?"
"Ivy!" Celia grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her back onto the bed. "He's fine. He’s safe."
Ivy’s breath hitched. "He’s safe?" she repeated, her voice breaking.
Celia nodded, worry knitting her brows. "He’s hurt, but he’s alright. The doctors brought both of you out of surgery three hours ago. I checked on him—he's okay."
Ivy took a deep, shuddering breath, her heart still hammering but slowly easing. The nightmare of the accident had felt too real, suffocating her only moments ago.
But before Ivy could fully process Celia’s words, the door burst open, and Larry walked in.
It had been five years since Ivy had last seen him. He was Christian’s friend, and though they’d had a bit of a small talk once, she hadn’t seen him since Christian left the country. Larry had never returned to the office after that. He’d only come there for Christian, and with him gone, Ivy hadn’t crossed paths with Larry again. Until now.
"Ivy, I need you to come with me," Larry said urgently, grabbing her hand and pulling her.
Celia immediately intervened, prying Larry’s grip off Ivy. "You need to stop! Does she look like she’s in any condition to see Christian right now? She’s all injured, for fuck’s sake!"
Larry ignored Celia completely and turned straight to Ivy. "He's out of his goddamn mind. He’s refusing the meds and insisting on leaving right now. Ivy, for the love of everything, after he risked his damn life for you, don’t you think you owe him at least this much?" His voice was thick with frustration.
Ivy tore free from Celia’s grip, pushing herself up despite the lingering pain. "Let’s go. I’ll come with you."
Larry wasted no time, leading her out of the room and straight into the one next to hers. Stopping outside, he pushed open the door and let Ivy walk in alone.
Christian was buttoning up his shirt, but at the sound of the door opening, his head jerked up, and he snapped, "Get the fu—" His words died the moment he saw her.
But for the first time, he didn’t smile at her.
He didn’t even look at her.