Chapter 182
Aria's POV
I remained motionless on the hospital bed, feigning sleep while observing through barely-open eyelids. Jeremy stood straighter, his shoulders tensing.
"She's a client, Noah. And a friend." Jeremy's voice carried a defensive edge I hadn't heard before. "What are you doing here anyway?"
Noah stepped further into the room, his expensive Italian loafers clicking against the linoleum floor. He circled the bed, studying me with the calculated gaze of someone appraising property.
"Interesting choice of 'friend.'" Noah's tone dripped with insinuation. "You do realize who she is, don't you?"
"Does it matter?" Jeremy's patience was clearly wearing thin.
"When it's Aria Harper? Yes, it matters." Noah's eyes narrowed. "Especially when Devon has taken a particular interest in her."
The tension between them crackled like static electricity. These weren't just business associates with a disagreement; this was something deeper, more personal.
"I've arranged a private nurse," Noah finally said, checking his watch. "She'll be here in twenty minutes. We should go."
Jeremy hesitated. "I promised I'd stay until—"
"Now, Jeremy." Noah's tone left no room for discussion.
After they left, I allowed myself to fully open my eyes, staring at the ceiling as the medication coursed through my veins. The food poisoning—or whatever Mandy had slipped into my coffee—left me feeling hollow and weak. I drifted back to sleep, my thoughts a jumbled mess of faces and voices.
---
Devon's POV
I remained hunched over the acquisition documents in my corner office, forcing myself to focus. Through my floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan sparkled like a jewelry box, but I barely registered its existence. Only the numbers mattered right now.
"Sir," Marcus said, entering without knocking. "There's been an incident at Eden. The police are asking questions about last week's private event."
I didn't bother looking up from my papers. "Handle it. Make sure our legal team—"
My phone vibrated, interrupting my instructions. Noah's message glowed on the screen: "Your little girlfriend is in the hospital. If you don't get there soon, another man might be moving in."
Aria. In the hospital.
Something tightened in my chest—an unfamiliar sensation I chose not to examine. I set down my pen, my mind already shifting priorities with mechanical efficiency.
"Sir? About Eden..." Marcus prompted, his voice penetrating my thoughts.
"It can wait." I stood, automatically straightening my cuffs. "Have the car brought around. Now."
Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback. "But the police—"
"I said it can wait." I kept my voice deliberately quiet, knowing it would command more attention than shouting ever could. Marcus immediately fell silent. "Eden is a problem for tomorrow."
As I gathered my things, I refused to analyze why Aria's hospitalization took precedence over a police inquiry. Some questions were better left unasked, even by myself.
---
Aria's POV
I was running through a dark hallway, my breath coming in desperate gasps. Behind me, I could hear the click of heels on marble. Marianne Blake pursued me, a gleaming knife in her hand, her face twisted with hatred.
"You stole everything from us," she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls.
I turned a corner and found myself facing a dead end. As I spun around, Marianne lunged—
I jerked awake with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs. The hospital room was dim, shadows stretching across the walls. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there.
Then I noticed him.
Devon Kane stood at the foot of my bed, his tall figure silhouetted against the faint light from the hallway. He was perfectly still, watching me with an unreadable expression.
"You're here," I whispered, my voice raspy from sleep and medication. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his arm, seeking an anchor in my post-nightmare disorientation.
He didn't pull away. Instead, he moved closer, his eyes tracing the contours of my face with unusual attentiveness.
"You look terrible," he said, but the expected coldness in his voice was absent.
"Thank you for the compliment," I managed to reply, releasing his arm when I realized I was still clutching it.
Devon sat in the chair beside my bed, his movements fluid and controlled. "The doctors say it was food poisoning. Severe."
I nodded, remembering Mandy's coffee. "Something like that."
My stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension. I hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the IV fluids had cleared most of the toxins from my system, leaving me ravenous.
Devon's lips curved into the ghost of a smile. "Wait here."
As if I could go anywhere.
He disappeared without another word. I checked the time on the wall clock: 11:45 PM. What was he doing here so late? And how did he even know I was hospitalized?
Twenty minutes later, Devon returned. He carried a large insulated bag that emitted tantalizing aromas. My stomach responded with another embarrassing growl.
"Marcus sent this over," he said, unpacking containers onto the overbed table. Steam rose from the first box he opened, revealing perfectly arranged sushi. The second contained hot miso soup, and the third a selection of grilled vegetables.
I stared at the feast in disbelief. "That's... not hospital food."
"Obviously." Devon positioned the table over my lap and handed me chopsticks wrapped in a cloth napkin. "Can you eat on your own, or do you need assistance?"
The question, delivered in his usual businesslike manner, somehow made my cheeks warm. "I can manage."
I took a bite of salmon nigiri, closing my eyes as the flavors exploded on my tongue. When I opened them again, Devon was watching me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.
"I can't eat all this," I said, gesturing to the spread. "Would you... like to join me?"
He hesitated, and for a moment I thought he would refuse. Then, surprising me, he pulled his chair closer and reached for the second pair of chopsticks.
"I suppose it would be wasteful otherwise."