Chapter 42
Years ago, when fighting at school had earned Asher a severe reprimand from his grandfather, at least no one had discovered the reason behind the brawl. Now, he couldn’t let his family learn he’d been fighting over Jessica again–it could jeopardize or even
cancel their engagement.
William dabbed nervously at his forehead, his usually impeccable demeanor shaken. “Completely understood, sir,” he stammered. already planning how to handle the paperwork discreetly.
“Handle the discharge forms,” Asher instructed, each word measured despite his split lip.
From the adjacent bed, Drake caught every word of their exchange. His derisive laugh held more pain than mockery. “Still hiding fights from mommy and daddy? What are you, a child?”
“The only person who needs to know,” Asher’s smile was razor–sharp as his eyes met Drake’s, “is my fiancée.”
The word ‘fiancée‘ struck Drake like a physical blow. He collapsed back against his pillows, watching the IV drip with hollow eyes. Each drop seemed to mirror his own bitter thoughts. The physical pain from their fight was nothing compared to the agony tearing at
his heart.
This couldn’t be real. Jessica wouldn’t–couldn’t–have a fiancé. Was she trying to punish him for saying he’d never marry her? That had to be it. She was just trying to make him jealous.
His Jessica loved him too much to move on. She couldn’t possibly be with another man. She wouldn’t dare!
Drake turned to Asher, contempt masking his desperation. “How much is she paying you? Those rent–a–boyfriend services must be doing well. Name your price–I’ll pay ten times whatever she’s offering. Leave her. Now.”
Asher’s laugh held genuine amusement. “Whatever delusion helps you sleep at night.”
“Are you actually insane?” Jessica stared at Drake in disbelief. “You think I’d hire someone to pretend to be my fiancé? Your ego is truly unbelievable.”
Drake seemed almost manic now, convinced Asher must be an impostor.
“Pathetic,” Jessica muttered.
As William returned with the transfer paperwork, Asher prepared to move to a private room. Jessica naturally took charge of his IV stand, her gentle attentiveness making Drake’s blood boil.
He reached for her wrist, but Asher’s security blocked him instantly, “Sir, control yourself.”
Asher’s eyes turned lethal. “Touch her again, and I’ll break your hand.”
“Try it!” Drake snarled. “I’m not afraid of you!”
“Enough!” Jessica intervened. “This is a hospital, for God’s sake.”
This time, Asher listened, following his assistant out without further confrontation.
Later that evening, Sienna arrived at the hospital. She’d been dining with friends in London when she heard about Drake’s condition and rushed over immediately.
“Drake, what happened to you?” She burst into tears at the sight of his swollen face.
Drake stared silently out the window, his expression hollow.
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Chapter 42
“Who did this?” Sienna sobbed. “Have you called the police?”
Drake maintained his silence as Sienna continued crying and asking questions.
Finally, irritation cracked through his facade. “Can you leave? I need some peace and quiet.”
“But… I want to stay and take care of you,” Sienna sniffled. The sight of his injuries genuinely pained her.
“No need,” Drake dismissed her. “I’ve arranged for a nurse.”
He couldn’t bear to look at Sienna right now. If it weren’t for her, he and Jessica might still be together. Since Jessica left, she
consumed his thoughts day and night.
How ironic. Only after losing her did he realize Jessica was the one he truly loved.
His heart ached remembering how he’d neglected Jessica for Sienna, all the cruel things he’d said. Then a thought struck him–Jessica had always wanted to marry him. He’d brutally rejected the idea, told her it was impossible.
But what if he offered marriage now?
Would Jessica come back?
His eyes lit up at the possibility. If he offered to make her Mrs. Ashcroft, surely she’d return to him!
The next morning, Jessica took her client to the social services office for a workplace injury assessment. It was nearly noon when she caught a taxi back to the firm.
As they approached, the driver frowned at a crowd blocking the street. “Something’s happening up ahead. Miss, you might have to walk from here–it’s not far.”
Jessica peered through the windshield. The usually quiet street was packed with people.
After paying the driver, she walked toward the crowd. Something felt wrong. The people seemed to be gathered around Sinclair &
Klein.
Suddenly, screams erupted. The crowd scattered in panic.
A woman crashed into Jessica, terror on her face. “Sorry!” she gasped, already turning to run.
Jessica grabbed her arm. “What’s happening?”
“Don’t go there! Someone’s gone mad with a knife–he’s killing people! Run!”
Heart pounding, Jessica sprinted toward the firm.
As she neared the entrance, she heard a cacophony of screams, sobs, and angry shouts. The crowd had dispersed, giving her a clear view of the horrific scene.
Daniel Parker lay in a pool of blood, a knife wound in his side still pumping blood. A man wielding a blade was attacking people indiscriminately.
“To hell with all you lawyers!” he screamed. “You tried to destroy me! Come on then!”
“If you’re going to destroy me, we’ll all die together! I’ve got nothing left to lose!”
“What’s a few more bodies? I’ll kill every one of you!”
“All you bloody lawyers can die with me!” he roared, spotting Rachel in her heels and charging toward her with his knife raised.
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Chapter 42
Rachel ran frantically through the office, her heels echoing against marble as she fled. “Help! Please don’t kill me!” she screamed, her earlier arrogance replaced by raw terror. “I never handled your case! I had nothing to do with it, I swear! Please!”
But the attacker was beyond reason. He’d already stabbed Daniel, the lawyer who’d actually handled his case. Now, with blood on his blade and madness in his eyes, he didn’t care who his victims were. Anyone in the firm would do.
Rachel darted between desks, trying to reach her colleagues, hoping their numbers might deter him. But she was slowing down, her heels betraying her. The others backed away, the sight of Daniel bleeding out on the floor having stripped away any thought of
heroism.
Jessica saw Rachel stumble. The knife–wielding man was closing in, his blade catching the fluorescent light. In seconds, he would
reach her.
Without hesitation, Jessica acted. She kicked off her heels in one fluid motion, the shoes skidding across the floor.
Her suit jacket followed, the garment discarded without a thought.
Years of martial arts training took over as she launched herself forward, her stockinged feet silent against the floor as she sprinted toward the attacker.
