Fevered Loyalty.
Eva stood still for a moment, playing absently with her fingers, weighing her limited options. Finally, she turned for the door, resolved to spend the night in the lobby if she had to.
But just as she reached for the doorknob, something soft hit her back.
A pillow.
She turned, stunned.
"Only for tonight," Damien muttered, already walking away with a face full of displeasure.
Without a word, Eva clutched the pillow to her chest and quickly scrambled to the floor beside the bed.
Damien climbed into the bed with a huff. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lay the pillow down carefully on the floor and curl up like a child beside the bed.
He scoffed again and yanked the duvet over his head.
What kind of grown woman chooses the floor when the sofa's right there? he thought with exasperation. He wasn't going to say it out loud. If she wanted to sleep like a martyr, let her. It was no longer his concern.
He was way too exhausted to settle for her nonsense, so he shut his eyes.
The following morning, Damien woke up to the sight of Eva, with dark circles under her eyes and a pale, swollen face that looked almost unfamiliar. Her complexion was dull, her expression tired, and something about her demeanor unsettled him, though he said nothing.
Without a word, he went to get ready for the day.
Eva, quietly and methodically, fetched her clothes from the laundry machine, took a quick bath, and changed, into the same outfit she had worn the day before. Then, without a single complaint, she followed Damien out for his daily office duties.
As they both settled into the car, Damien heard a soft sneeze from beside him. He turned slightly, glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then scoffed and looked away.
Later, at the hotel where Damien was scheduled to meet with a group of high-profile business elites, he entered the conference room with Eva trailing behind. Three sharply dressed young men were already seated, awaiting his arrival.
As Damien began to engage them in discussion, Eva sneezed, again, this time sharply, causing the men to glance her way.
"I'm so sorry," she said quickly, her voice small and apologetic.
But it didn't stop. She kept sneezing, quietly but persistently, distracting both Damien and the attendees.
One of the men finally leaned forward and asked with concern, "Is everything okay with you, miss?"
"Sure, I'm very much okay," Eva replied with an awkward smile.
"Your PA looks sick," another added, clearly skeptical.
"I'm sure she's fine," Damien cut in briskly, his voice sharp. "Shall we continue the meeting?"
After the session ended, Damien and Eva walked back to the car in silence. As he opened the door, he noticed her discreetly wiping her nose with a handkerchief.
He didn't need a doctor to tell him, she'd caught a cold.
It wasn't hard to guess how.
Sleeping on the floor all night, in the middle of winter, without a blanket.
Damien exhaled and climbed into the car, choosing not to say a word.
Damien sank into the backseat of the car as it pulled away toward his next destination. But as the city blurred past the windows, guilt gnawed at his chest.
He shouldn't have let her sleep on the cold floor.
He should have told her to use the sofa. Or at least given her a blanket or a jacket. Something.
But then again, wasn't she supposed to use her brain?
She could've asked. She could've taken the initiative.
"Stupid," he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening.
He regretted listening to Eric. Bringing her along had been a mistake.
The day turned into a disaster. Eva made everything worse, sneezing, coughing, sniffing, all through his meetings. Her presence grated on his nerves and shattered his focus. He didn't even know how he got through the day without snapping.
By the time evening rolled around, Damien climbed into the car after his penultimate meeting, exhausted. He leaned his head back, shut his eyes, and tried to breathe through the pressure mounting in his temples.
Then the car pulled over at the final venue for the day.
Damien opened his eyes and glanced sideways, only to freeze.
Eva was fast asleep beside him.
His brow furrowed.
He scoffed in disbelief.
Was she serious right now?
He slammed the door behind him as he got out, loud and deliberate, as if to shake her awake with noise. But she didn't stir.
He walked off to his meeting without his PA, muttering under his breath.
Two hours later, after his meeting, Damien returned to the car, and paused when he opened the door.
She was still asleep.
He slid in, grumbled a soft curse, then stared out the window with a deep frown.
Then it happened, a quiet, muffled chewing sound came from her, a sleepy murmur. He turned, expecting her to finally wake up.
Instead, her head dropped gently onto his shoulder.
Damien tensed.
He was about to push her away, to bark something sharp and unforgiving, but then he froze.
Her skin was hot. Feverishly, hot.
Her face was glistening with sweat, and her lips were moving faintly in delirious murmurs he couldn't quite make out. She winced softly in her sleep, as though even dreaming had become painful.
Damien's heartbeat slowed.
Something shifted in his chest.
His breath caught, almost imperceptibly, and his whole body stilled. For a man who controlled every room he walked into, he suddenly felt… helpless.
He didn't move.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly to glance at her flushed face, then gently leaned back against the seat.
"Drive carefully," he murmured to the driver, his voice lower now, more composed.
It was obvious, he didn't want her waking up, or falling off.
When the car finally pulled up at the hotel, Damien contemplated waking her, but Eva was barely conscious. She wouldn't open her eyes, only muttered faint, incoherent sounds.
The driver turned, concern on his face. "Sir… it seems your PA has passed out. Should we take her to a hospital?"
Damien didn't respond immediately. He stepped out of the car quietly, walked around to her side, and, without hesitation, lifted her into his arms.
But just as he made his way toward the hotel entrance, one of his bodyguards rushed forward.
"Sir, there are paparazzi around. If they catch this moment on camera, you'll definitely make tomorrow's headlines."
Damien barely looked at him. He just headed into the hotel.
Flashes went off in the distance, rapid, relentless, but he didn't care.
He carried Eva straight into the hotel, through the private entrance, ignoring the buzz of whispers and camera shutters following his every step.
Inside the suite, Damien gently laid her on the bed.
Then he grabbed his phone and dialed Eric.
The call connected almost immediately.
"She's sick," Damien said sharply.
Eric sounded confused. "What? She was perfectly fine yesterday. What happened?"
"She caught a cold."
"Oh... right. The weather's been pretty harsh in Mexico lately. But still_"
"This is your fault," Damien snapped. "I shouldn't have listened to you. She's been a complete headache. She was supposed to be assisting me. Instead, I've been the one babysitting her. And now she's passed out."
"I'm really sorry about that, sir," Eric replied sincerely. "I thought it'd be a good chance to kill two birds with one stone. So, what's her condition now?"
"She's burning up. Still asleep."
Eric paused, then offered, "Try stabilizing her temperature first. Call the hotel lobby, they might have a medical service or some meds on standby. Observe her for a while. If she doesn't improve, you'll need to take her to the hospital."
A beat passed.
"And honestly, sir... I think you can handle this. I saw the way you took care of Tyler back then when she was sick. Maybe try doing the same."
A flash of silence filled the line before Damien's voice dropped, cold and sharp.
"She's not Tyler."
"I know, I know," Eric said gently. "But didn't you say they share similarities. Okay here's what we'll do, perhaps you can try imagining she is Tyler, I am very much sure that would help you deal with this, so maybe lean into that a bit. I have to go now, sir. A pressing matter came up. But I trust you've got this. Eva's in good hands."
Click. The line went dead.
Damien blinked.
"Eric? Don't you dare hang up on me, Eric, you stupid fool!" he muttered through clenched teeth.
He threw the phone on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.
Then he turned to Eva again, her face pale against the pillows, her breathing uneven.
Despite himself, Damien's expression softened, just slightly.