Chapter 4

Fiona

A week later, I was organizing the study when I heard familiar footsteps stop at the doorway.

"I came to get some documents I left in the study..." Maxwell stood at the entrance, holding a file that clearly hadn't been touched in ages. "And to thank you for yesterday's arrangements."

I noticed the dust coating the file and took a cautious step back: "You didn't need to make a special trip—just have the housekeeper bring it over next time."

This was his fourth visit this week, each time with some flimsy excuse—forgotten documents, books he needed to find, or simply to say "thanks."

"I... I wanted to thank you in person." Maxwell's voice had an unusual hesitation. "You've done so much for us..."

Why does he keep making excuses to see me? This is getting dangerous...

I suppressed my unease, trying to stay calm: "It's nothing. I just want you both to be happy."

But Maxwell didn't leave. Instead, he stepped closer: "Fiona, you've seemed... off lately."

"I'm fine." I quickly turned away. "I'll go prepare lunch."

I practically bolted from the room, his eyes burning into my back.

That afternoon, I escaped to the piano room on the second floor, hoping to calm my nerves.

Afternoon light streamed through the blinds, casting shadows across the piano keys as my fingers traced a familiar melody. This "Moonlight Sonata" had once been my only comfort in this house.

"This piece... was my favorite to hear you play when we were kids."

The familiar male voice suddenly spoke, and my fingers froze, nearly hitting the wrong keys.

"Maxwell?" I turned around in surprise. "How did you get up here?"

"I heard the music and couldn't resist listening." He entered the room, his gaze focused intently on me. "It's been so long since I've heard it."

Danger!

I nervously stood up: "I... I'm not very good. Don't laugh."

"No, it's beautiful." Maxwell stepped closer, his voice unusually gentle. "Your hand..."

He noticed the small cut on the back of my hand—from accidentally nicking myself with a knife while cooking yesterday.

"You're hurt?" Maxwell was instantly at my side, reaching to examine it. "Is it serious? Does it need bandaging?"

"It's nothing!" I recoiled in alarm, as if burned. "Just a small cut!"

But he didn't stop, instead pursuing me with even more concern: "Let me take a look..."

"I said it's nothing!" My voice was almost trembling as I turned to leave. "I need to prepare dinner!"

I fled in panic, my heart racing. Why? Why was he looking at me like that? Why did his concern terrify me so much?

---

The next afternoon, Helen rushed to find me at the garden gazebo, looking very anxious.

"Fiona!" she said angrily, "You have to help me figure out what to do!"

"What's wrong?" I forced a smile, but my heart was still racing from yesterday's incident.

"Maxwell has been acting so weird lately!" Helen sat down in frustration. "During our date yesterday, he zoned out at least five times! He wasn't listening to anything I said!"

A chill ran down my spine.

"Maybe... maybe he's stressed at work?"

"No!" Helen grew more agitated. "He keeps asking about you! What you like, what you're doing, whether you've been unhappy lately..."

"We're supposed to be dating!" Helen's voice carried hurt. "Why isn't he concerned about me but always thinking about you?"

Helen paused, her voice becoming even more confused: "Sometimes I feel like the way he looks at you... isn't how you look at a sister."

Her words sent a jolt of panic through me. No! I absolutely cannot let the tragedy from my past life repeat itself!

"Helen, you're overthinking it." I tried to make my voice sound normal. "He loves you—there's no doubt about that."

"Really?" Helen looked uncertain.

"Of course." I took her hand, but every alarm bell in my head was screaming. "He just... probably needs time to adjust."

After Helen left, I immediately found the housekeeper: "If Maxwell comes looking for me, tell him I'm out."

Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided any chance of being alone with Maxwell. But this avoidance only made him more persistent. I kept hearing him asking the staff about my whereabouts.

Until this evening, when he finally cornered me in the dining room.

"Fiona, are you avoiding me?" Maxwell's voice sounded hurt.

"No... I've just been busy lately..."

"Busy with what? I can help you."

"No need! I can handle it myself!" My reaction was too intense, leaving us both stunned.

In that suffocating silence, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." I rushed to answer it like I'd been thrown a lifeline.

Outside stood a tall, handsome man with dark brown hair, a gentle smile, and documents in his hand.

"Nathan?!" My eyes immediately lit up.

"Fiona, long time no see." Nathan's smile was warm as spring sunshine. "I'm here to discuss a business partnership with Mr. Reed."

Nathan Cameron, my college classmate and heir to the Cameron family fortune.

"Perfect timing." I could practically see the solution forming.

"You look a bit off," Nathan said with concern. "Is something wrong?"

I glanced back toward the dining room where Maxwell's figure still lingered.

"Could I... talk to you privately?"

"Of course, you know I'm always here for you." Nathan immediately agreed.

I led Nathan to a secluded corner of the back garden, making sure we wouldn't be overheard.

"Nathan, do you remember our childhood promise?" I said urgently. "You said you'd protect me..."

"I've never forgotten." Nathan looked at me with deep affection. "Fiona, actually I've always..."

"I need your help." I interrupted him. "Maxwell lately has been... his behavior makes me very uncomfortable."

Nathan's expression immediately turned serious: "What has he done to you?"

"He keeps finding excuses to see me, always asks about me, and..." I took a deep breath. "I'm afraid he's developing inappropriate feelings for me."

"What?!" Nathan clenched his fists in anger.

"Nathan," I gripped his hand, my eyes full of pleading, "could you pretend... pretend to be my boyfriend? Just temporarily, so he knows I'm taken, and then he won't..."

Nathan looked at me in shock, then his eyes filled with heartache: "Fiona... if this will protect you, I'll do anything."

An hour later, we returned to the living room. Nathan was sitting on the couch waiting when Maxwell emerged from the dining room, their gazes meeting in the air.

"And this is...?" Maxwell's voice was clearly guarded.

I took a deep breath and walked to Nathan's side, deliberately linking my arm intimately with his.

"This is Nathan, my boyfriend."

I could clearly see the change in Maxwell's expression, as if he'd been struck by something heavy.

"Nice to meet you, Maxwell." Nathan politely stood and extended his hand. "Fiona often mentions what a great big brother you are."

Maxwell mechanically shook hands, his voice trembling slightly: "Boyfriend? When did this happen? How did I not know?"

"It's recent." I deliberately moved closer to Nathan, each word like a knife to my own chest. "Nathan treats me very well. We're perfect for each other."

I saw pain and anger flash in Maxwell's eyes, but he struggled to suppress it, his voice hoarse: "I... I see."

He looked at me deeply, that gaze so complex it broke my heart: "As long as he treats you well... as your brother, I'll give you my blessing."

With that, he turned and left, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

I watched him go, my heart aching violently.

It hurts so much. I love you! But we can't repeat the same mistakes, Maxwell!

Nathan gently touched my hand: "Fiona, you're trembling."

"I'm fine." I forced a smile, but tears were already welling in my eyes. "The plan worked, didn't it?"