Chloe maintained her perfectly trained smile.
She almost slipped and said 'your boyfriend', but the memory of Alex Rivers handing her a very thick envelope of cash stopped the words in her throat.
It was a very kind older delivery driver, Chloe lied smoothly. He saw you fall and used his phone to call the ambulance. He even used a prepaid credit card to cover your emergency room deposit before slipping away.
The lie was flawless. It explained the hospital and the money.
"A delivery driver?" Gabrielle asked.
She frowned. She tried to picture the man who caught her, but the memory was blurry. The sharp jawline and the expensive suit did not match an older man delivering food.
She let out a breath. Her mind was playing tricks on her. The voice in the dark was just a comforting illusion her brain created to cope with the trauma.
A rush of gratitude warmed her chest. On the worst night of her life, a complete stranger had saved her.
"Did he leave a name?" Gabrielle asked. "I need to pay him back."
"He did not leave a name," Chloe said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small white card. "But he said if you wanted to thank him, you could make a donation to the New York Children's Charity Fund."
Chloe handed the card to Gabrielle. Alex Rivers had printed it three hours ago.
Gabrielle stared at the card. Her respect for the phantom driver deepened.
She picked up her phone from the bedside table. She opened her banking app. She typed in the charity's routing number and transferred one hundred thousand dollars. In the memo line, she typed: Thank you to the kind Doordash driver.
Two miles away, in the penthouse office of Sykes Capital, Colvin's phone buzzed on his desk.
He picked it up. It was an automated text from the charity fund confirming the massive donation.
He read the memo line. A rare, genuine smile broke across his face. It was a smile filled with helpless affection.
He had successfully hidden his identity, but now the woman he loved thought he delivered tacos for a living.
Back in the hospital, Gabrielle swung her legs over the side of the bed. She felt unsteady, but she could not stay here. She had to start her own agency. She had to rebuild her life.
She found her clothes folded in a plastic bag. She put the wrinkled suit back on. She did not care how she looked anymore.
She signed the discharge papers, refused the hospital's offer to call a car, and ordered an Uber on her phone.
She climbed into the back of the Honda Accord and leaned her head against the cold window.
Her phone started ringing.
The caller ID flashed: Aunt Brenda.
Gabrielle frowned. Her aunt Brenda Sutkowski never called unless she wanted something expensive.
Gabrielle answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Gabrielle! You ungrateful little brat!" Brenda's shrill voice screamed through the speaker. "You finally pick up!"
Gabrielle pulled the phone away from her ear. "Aunt Brenda, what is wrong?"
"What is wrong?" Brenda shrieked. "Your uncle's company is going bankrupt! We are ruined! And it is all your fault!"
Gabrielle's stomach hollowed out. Marcus Thorne's manufacturing company was the pride of her mother's family.
"How is that possible?" Gabrielle asked, sitting up straight. "Uncle Marcus just landed a massive European contract last month."
"Because of you!" Brenda sobbed loudly. "Because you refused to honor the marriage pact with the Sykes family! Now karma is punishing us!"
Gabrielle's jaw tightened. She had fought this battle a hundred times. "I told you years ago that I would never acknowledge that archaic, feudal verbal agreement!" she snapped back, her voice laced with steel. "Do not try to hijack my life with a ghost's promise!"
"Have you forgotten the rule your grandfather made on his deathbed?" Brenda yelled, ignoring her completely.
"The Thorne family and the Sykes family must intermarry! It is time for you to pay your debt!"
