Chapter 177

Andrew's POV

I dismissed another set of medical specialists with a practiced smile, watching them file into the elevator at Harrison Group headquarters. This was the fifth consultation in two weeks—a troubling pattern for a man who typically avoided doctors like the plague.

Mr. Harrison had been summoning world-renowned neurologists since Mrs. Reed left for her trip before the holiday weekend. Something had shifted dramatically in my boss, and as his executive assistant for the past seven years, I could read the signs better than most.

Ryan approached me in the hallway, his face pinched with anxiety. "Should we check on him? The executive suite feels like a pressure cooker right now."

I glanced at the closed door, my mind already made up. "You go ahead. I need to handle something. If Mr. Harrison asks, tell him I'm escorting the specialists out."

"What are you up to?" Ryan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You've got that look—the one that usually precedes something risky."

"Nothing that concerns you," I replied, already turning to leave. "I'll be back shortly."

I didn't wait for his response. Some situations required direct intervention, and after watching Mr. Harrison spiral into darker moods each day, I'd decided this was one of them.

Thirty minutes later, I was seated by the window of a coffee shop near our building, checking my watch when Olivia Reed walked in. Several heads turned as she made her way toward me—her elegant presence had that effect even in casual attire.

"Andrew," she said coolly as I stood to greet her. "What's so important that we needed to meet privately?"

I gestured to the chair across from me. "It's about you and Mr. Harrison. I want to be clear though—he didn't send me. This conversation is entirely my initiative."

Her eyebrow arched as she sat down. "I assumed you functioned as his messenger. This is... unexpected."

"Mrs. Reed, I've served as Mr. Harrison's right hand for years. I know things about the Harrison family that few others do." I leaned forward slightly. "Including why he's been deliberately distancing himself from you."

Her fingers tensed around her purse. "Our arrangement was always meant to be temporary. Two years, that was the deal."

"The two-year contract was his idea, yes. But not for the reasons you might think." I took a deep breath. "Has Mr. Harrison ever told you about his childhood?"

She shook her head, curiosity replacing caution in her expression.

"When he was seven, Maxwell was kidnapped by business rivals of the Harrison family. During his captivity, he was systematically poisoned with various compounds. Though he was eventually rescued, the damage had already been done."

Olivia's eyes widened, but she remained silent, allowing me to continue.

"The poisons transformed over time, causing a neurological condition that triggers episodes similar to seizures but with potential personality changes. During these episodes, he loses almost all control and can become..." I hesitated, "unpredictable."

Understanding dawned on her face, followed by shock. "Are you saying he's ill?"

"For most of his life, yes. This is why he's always maintained distance in his relationships. He's terrified of hurting those closest to him—of being seen as dangerous by his own family." I leaned forward. "The two-year marriage contract was his way of providing for you and Avery while ensuring your long-term safety."

She absorbed this in silence, her sharp mind clearly processing the implications.

"What you may not realize is how much things changed between you. What began as a contract became something more genuine. I've observed Mr. Harrison for years—he's never behaved with anyone the way he does with you and Avery."

"If what you're saying is true," she said carefully, "why push me away now?"

"Because of that young man at the university club who expressed interest in you. It was a wake-up call for him. Mr. Harrison believes you deserve a normal relationship, not one shadowed by his condition." I paused. "He's been trying to return to your original agreement—a strictly professional arrangement."

Her eyes flashed with something I couldn't quite read.

"But here's what he won't tell you," I continued. "During your absence, he's consulted with countless specialists. They've unanimously concluded that the likelihood of another episode is virtually non-existent. Yet he clings to that minuscule risk, using it as a shield against his feelings for you."

I assured her that the Harrison medical team always had contingency plans. "Even during his worst episodes years ago, he never harmed anyone. Now that the condition is essentially gone, that risk is even more remote."

Olivia remained quiet, her expression unreadable. Finally, she pulled out her phone and typed something quickly.

"Where is Maxwell right now?" she asked, her voice steady.

"In his office. He just finished meeting with specialists from Switzerland."

She stood abruptly, gathering her belongings. For a moment, I feared I'd overstepped terribly. Then she said something that left me momentarily speechless.

"Tell your boss I'll be at The Carlyle Hotel in an hour, considering gigolos for the evening. Whether he shows up or not is his choice."

With that bombshell, she strode out of the café, leaving me stunned before comprehension dawned. I couldn't suppress a smile as I hurried back to the office.

When I returned, Ryan was hovering anxiously near my desk. "Where the hell have you been?" he hissed. "The atmosphere in there is toxic. One more minute and I'd be writing my will!"

Despite his distress, I felt unexpectedly light. "Hang in there. The storm clouds should clear by evening."

Ryan eyed me suspiciously. "What? Have you pulled some kind of miracle, or are you just delirious from the pressure?"

I gave him a dismissive look and moved toward the executive suite. Sometimes, even the most powerful men need a little push in the right direction. As Mr. Harrison's longest-serving assistant, I considered it part of my duty to ensure not just his professional success, but his personal happiness as well.

And if my instincts were correct, the dark mood that had permeated the Harrison Group's top floor was about to lift—replaced by something much brighter indeed.