If I had ten million dollars, the first thing I'd do is get back at my stepmother and her daughter—repay them for every ounce of resentment I've bottled up over the years.
Avianna laughed. "Quite the prize, huh? If you marry Mathias and start giving his grandfather great-grandkids, you could retire before thirty. Talk about a family incentive plan!"
I let out a dry laugh. "Ten kids? Suddenly, that money doesn't sound so appealing."
We kept chatting until I reached the hospital room. Questions buzzed through my head. Who in New York is pretending to be Mathias on his dates? Is it a stunt by the Thomas family to cover up his disappearance? Or did Mathias have someone step in before he went missing?
But I pushed those thoughts aside for now. Mathias was there with me, so everyone else's games didn't matter. With a bright smile, I placed my hand on the doorknob.
"I'm back, sweetie~"
Mathias was in better spirits that day, more relaxed around me as he nibbled at the breakfast I fed him—a plate of pancakes and hash browns. "Tomorrow's Monday. Aren't you supposed to go back to work?"
"I'm not leaving until you're better, sweetheart."
He looked a little worried. "You just started there and haven't found your footing yet. Aren't you worried they'll use this against you?"
I shrugged, unfazed. "Let them talk. You matter more."
Mathias raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you all fired up about work last night?"
I just smiled and left it at that.
He studied me for a beat before his expression relaxed. "You're trying to make them think you're slacking off, so they drop their guard, right?"
I blinked at him, caught off guard. "Is it that obvious, or do we just have that married-couple intuition?"
Before, I stuck to the rules and showed respect to the veterans, but it never won me any allies. So I figured I needed a change in strategy—lay low and wait for the right moment. I didn't expect Mathias to catch on so fast.
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "I didn't realize you were so cunning. Looks like I need to rethink my view of you."
Panic fluttered in my chest. I didn't want him to see me as scheming, so I rushed to reassure him. "I might have plans for them, but with you, I'm nothing but real. I couldn't fake it with you even if I tried. You're my favorite."
He arched a brow. "Why so nervous? Are you hiding something?"
"Absolutely not!" I said without missing a beat. "I swear, I'd give my life for you. How could I ever deceive you?"
He seemed to have mentioned it only in passing, because he didn't push it. "Finish your breakfast. We'll get back to those documents after."
I realized I'd said too much earlier and silently promised to be more careful from then on.
After breakfast, I showed Mathias my mother's medical records, hoping something might jog his memory, but nothing clicked. He only asked a few basic questions, and I tried not to feel too disheartened.
Maybe even if the Thomas family was tied to that kind of research, they wouldn't need Mathias to be deeply involved. He was probably just one name in their huge network. If I wanted access to the real operation, strengthening our relationship was still my best shot. Once he returned to the Thomas family, I'd naturally get closer to his research team and learn more about the medication.
A doctor came in to change the dressings. The sight of his brutal wounds made me hold my breath. I'd always been squeamish around blood, so I gripped Mathias's hand tightly, more shaken than he seemed.
"Does it hurt? Who did this to you? If I get my hands on him, I'll tear him apart." My eyes stung with tears I refused to let fall.
The injuries were severe—some of the stab wounds dangerously deep. Mathias held still, but the pain was written all over him. Noticing my reaction, he gently covered my eyes with his hand.
"It doesn't hurt. Don't look."
My long lashes tickled his palm as they brushed against it. His voice wavered, but he was the one suffering. "You're lying," I whispered.
The doctor, busy with the bandages, teased, "You seemed so calm when he first came in. Why so worried now that he's on the mend?"
My mind screamed a warning, but I recovered fast. "I was in shock back then. Completely numb. I couldn't even cry."
The doctor nodded. "That's true. In extreme fear or grief, people often don't react at all."
Crisis averted again.
When he finished, the doctor advised, "His legs are okay for light movement, but avoid anything strenuous so the wounds don't tear."
I walked the doctor out, then turned back to Mathias. "Up for a walk?"
He'd been bedridden long enough, so he agreed. "Sure thing."
I grabbed a wheelchair and helped him settle in. "It's nice out. Let's go to the garden."
In the elevator, just the two of us, he caught my red-rimmed eyes in the reflective walls and teased, "Crying over a simple bandage change, little crybaby."
I pouted. "Only because I care about you. And now you're making fun of me?"
His chuckle was soft. "Even your crying is pretty."
The words caught me off guard. "You've changed."
His smile faltered. "What?"
"You weren't this talkative before. And you never complimented me."
The Thomas family heir was supposed to be cold—nothing like the playful mood he was in that day.
Mathias's lips curved slightly. "Really? So which do you prefer? The old me or the current me?"
"I like both. Cold or sweet, young or old." The words came out effortlessly.
Mathias seemed thrown by my shameless affection and chose silence over a response.
We wandered through the garden, the calm broken only when a stray leaf slipped down the back of his shirt. I stopped and reached for it.
As I fished around for the leaf, Mathias frowned. "Are you seriously messing around in broad daylight?"
I fired back, "Hold still. It'll itch later."
Unfazed, I lifted his shirt to snag the leaf, giving me a shameless view of his chiseled six-pack.
Mathias didn't seem to mind, lounging in the wheelchair with an easy posture. "I can manage here alone. You should head to the office tomorrow."
He cut off as I suddenly leaned in, leaf in hand, closing the space between us until only a breath separated our lips.
"Don't move!"
Confused, Mathias started, "I knew it, you—"
I whispered fast, "It's Howard Blake!"
At the mention of Blake—the cunning old head of the company—Mathias's eyes sharpened.
Then, in one quick move, Mathias's hand grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap, his lips crashing into mine before I could react. My brain went blank. What started as a fake embrace became a real kiss, and I froze, completely stunned.
Mathias didn't hold back. One hand pinned my wrist, and he kissed me like he meant it, turning me—usually so bold—into a shy, flustered mess from the sudden intensity.
