Chapter 4 A Deal

Two days had passed since my life fell apart, and I'd spent every hour hiding from the consequences.

To be fair, I had a rather compelling excuse.

The young man I'd accidentally hit with my car was still recovering. After treating his injuries, panic had driven me to bring him to the small studio apartment I'd lived in before marrying Daniel Ashford.

It wasn't sensible, but terror has a remarkable way of disguising terrible decisions as brilliant survival strategies.

I was a doctor. I knew how to treat wounds, administer medication, and monitor a patient's condition. Taking him to a public hospital, however, would have meant triggering a police investigation, explaining why I'd been sobbing behind the wheel, and answering questions I had no emotional capacity to handle.

Besides, he'd explicitly begged me not to take him to a hospital.

My phone had been buzzing constantly since that night, with Daniel's name flashing across the screen until I finally switched it off. I hadn't answered a single call or dared return to the hospital to check on Vanessa.

For the first time in my life, I'd simply run away.

Unfortunately, I now had an injured stranger occupying my former apartment, which meant disappearing completely wasn't an option.

After picking up groceries from a nearby market, I climbed the stairs, the bags weighing heavily against my fingers. I slipped my key into the lock, pushed the door open, and promptly forgot how to breathe.

The young man was in the living room.

Despite the thick bandage wrapped around his torso, he was no longer confined to the bed I'd prepared. Instead, he was stretched across the couch, propped against cushions, one long leg extended while he casually flipped through documents resting on his lap.

My documents.

The multimillion-dollar expansion proposal I'd spent the night working on. The same project I'd intended to hand Daniel the morning my world came crashing down.

I froze, staring at the papers before slowly lifting my gaze to his face.

Our eyes met.

His were an unsettling shade of grey, cold and unreadable. His expression revealed no gratitude, warmth, or embarrassment at having gone through someone else's belongings.

He regarded me like a predator examining an unexpected insect.

"I'm so sorry," I blurted, dropping the grocery bags onto the table. "I know bringing you here without your consent was illegal and completely insane, but you asked me not to take you to a hospital, and I honestly didn't know what else to do—"

He said nothing.

His silence was more unnerving than anger. As he watched me without blinking, my words tumbled out faster.

"I treated your injuries as best I could, I swear. I'll cover whatever medical care you need and compensate you however you want. Just please don't look at me like that. I didn't mean to hit you. I wasn't paying attention because I was distracted, and I was distracted because I'd just caught my husband kissing my sister in a hospital room, and my entire life fell apart in thirty seconds!"

I clamped my mouth shut.

Oh, God. I'd just confessed the most humiliating moment of my life to a complete stranger.

Wonderful. Absolutely brilliant.

He showed no shock or pity. He simply let the silence stretch between us before slowly swinging his legs off the couch.

A tight wince crossed his jaw as he rose to his full height.

My instincts screamed at me to run. Unfortunately, my feet seemed attached to the floor.

He walked toward me, unhurried and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world.

I stepped backward until my shoulders met the wall beside the entrance.

"I really wasn't trying to flee justice," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You asked me not to take you to a hospital, and I respected your wishes. Please..."

He ignored my explanation. Instead, he raised one hand, caught my chin between his fingers, and tilted my face until I had no choice but to meet his eyes.

A shiver travelled down my spine.

His skin was astonishingly cold, like ice pulled straight from a freezer.

"Are you married?"

The question fell from his lips, low and flat.

I blinked. "What?"

A humourless smirk touched his mouth. His grey eyes remained fixed on mine.

"Your answer will determine whether I walk out that door, head to the nearest police station, and report you for attempted murder and a hit-and-run..."

He paused, letting the threat settle.

"...or decide to show you a little mercy."

The blood drained from my face.

"You begged me not to take you to a hospital!" I protested.

"It's your word against mine, sweetheart," he replied, his thumb brushing my jaw. "Who do you think a judge will believe? The terrified driver who fled the scene or the injured man she left behind?"

I cursed him a thousand times in my mind.

My chest rose and fell as I struggled to process his audacity.

Eventually, he loosened his grip and stepped away. Silence settled between us again.

When he spoke, however, the dangerous edge in his voice shifted.

"On the other hand, this little accident could turn out to be quite beneficial for both of us."

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

He returned to the coffee table, picked up my folder, and flipped it open. His grey eyes moved across the pages, scanning the figures and projections with an ease that caught my attention.

Too much ease.

"I know all about your dear husband, Daniel, and his infidelities," Jaxon remarked without looking up. "And I happen to know you want payback."

My expression hardened.

"I don't need your help with my marriage."

He closed the folder and faced me. His gaze was so piercing it felt as though he could see through every layer of denial I was trying to maintain.

Then he stepped closer, invading my personal space with effortless authority.

"I'll forget about the police. I'll forget the accident entirely. In fact, I'll even help you destroy Daniel Ashford and everything he's worked so hard to build."

My stomach tightened.

"Only if you agree to do one thing for me."

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

I should have refused. I should have demanded an explanation before entertaining whatever ridiculous proposition he was about to make.

But I was exhausted.

My husband had betrayed me. My sister had mocked every sacrifice I'd made for her. I'd spent two days hiding from a life I no longer recognised.

I had absolutely nothing left to lose.

Or at least, that's what I wanted to believe.

"What..." My voice barely rose above a whisper. I swallowed. "What do you want?"

His mouth slowly curved into a grin.

Those chilling grey eyes locked onto mine, and for the first time, I had the unsettling feeling he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

"You can crawl back to your useless husband..."

He paused, his smile deepening.

"...or you can date me."

My lips parted.

I couldn't tell whether he was threatening me, negotiating with me, or offering an escape from everything else.

He leaned forward, delivering his final words with infuriating satisfaction.

"Jaxon Graves."