Alan's POV
It was supposed to be just another workday.
Another morning of boardrooms, reports, and pretending not to want the woman sitting across from me.
But the moment Ashley walked in, I knew something was off.
She was quieter. Paler. Her usual calm had been replaced with something else — like she was carrying a storm inside her chest but pretending the sky was still clear.
Her hands trembled slightly as she set her coffee down. She missed her cup once, muttered an apology to no one, and avoided my gaze the entire meeting.
I should've focused on the numbers. I tried. But all I could think about was her — the way her eyes flickered like she was somewhere else, the way she chewed her lip when she thought no one was watching.
She wasn't herself. And that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
When the meeting finally ended, she gathered her things too quickly.
"Ashley," I called.
She froze for half a second, then turned with that careful, composed expression she always wore when she didn't want anyone to see what she felt.
"Yes?"
"Can we talk?"
Her jaw tensed. "About work?"
"No," I said quietly. "About you."
She hesitated, glancing around to make sure the others were leaving. When the door clicked shut, she let out a small sigh and sat back down — like the weight of the day had finally caught up to her.
I leaned forward. "You've been off all week. Distant. What's going on?"
"Nothing's wrong," she said quickly.
I arched a brow. "You're lying."
She looked away. "Alan—"
"Ashley," I said, cutting her off softly. "I know you. I know when something's eating at you. And whatever it is—it's not just work."
She pressed her lips together, fingers twisting the pen in her hand. "It's complicated."
"Then make it simple," I said. "Talk to me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
She exhaled sharply, eyes glistening for a split second before she blinked it away. "Because it's something you can't fix."
I stood, moved around the table, and stopped beside her chair. "Let me decide that."
She looked up at me then, and for a moment, the mask cracked. I saw fear. Confusion. Guilt.
But beneath all that — something deeper.
Trust.
The kind that made my chest tighten.
"Ashley," I said, my voice lower now, "whatever it is that's bothering you this much, you don't have to carry it alone. You can tell me."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for a moment, the silence between us said everything we couldn't.
I loved her. I hadn't said the words yet, but I knew. Every time she tried to push me away, every time she looked at me like she wished she didn't feel the way she did — it only made it clearer.
She opened her mouth, finally. "Alan, I…"
Her voice broke.
"You what?" I asked gently.
She swallowed hard. Her hands were trembling now.
"I—"
And then she went pale. Completely white.
"Ash?" I frowned, moving closer. "Hey—what's wrong?"
She pressed a hand to her mouth. "I think I'm gonna—"
Before she could finish, she shot up from her chair and bolted out of the office.
I didn't think. I followed.
She barely made it to the hallway bathroom before she threw up, collapsing to her knees beside the sink. I rushed in behind her, pulling her hair back instinctively.
"Hey, hey—easy," I murmured. "Just breathe."
She coughed, gripping the edge of the counter, her body shaking.
When she finally looked up, her face was pale and damp, eyes glassy with exhaustion.
"I'm fine," she said hoarsely.
"You're not fine."
"I just need a minute."
I crouched beside her. "Ashley, this isn't nothing. You've been off for days, barely eating, barely sleeping—"
She interrupted, voice weak. "Alan, please. I just need to go home."
"Not happening," I said firmly. "You almost collapsed last week, remember? I'm not letting this slide again."
She tried to stand but swayed. I caught her just in time.
Her body felt fragile in my arms — too light, too unsteady.
And in that moment, something inside me twisted.
Fear.
"Ash, talk to me," I said again, softer this time. "Please."
She looked up at me, eyes unfocused. "I didn't mean for this to happen," she whispered.
"What do you mean—"
But before I could finish, her knees gave way completely.
"Ashley!"
Her body went limp against me.
For a split second, I froze — the sound of my heart pounding so loud it drowned everything else out. Then instinct took over.
I lifted her in my arms and shouted for help. "Call security! Get a car ready—now!"
People in the hallway turned, startled, but I didn't care. All I could think about was getting her to the hospital.
Her head rested against my shoulder, her breathing shallow.
"Stay with me," I whispered as I carried her out of the building. "You hear me? Stay with me."
The ride to the hospital was a blur of red lights and panic. My hand never left hers. I didn't care who saw.
When we finally arrived, nurses rushed her inside, asking questions I couldn't answer.
"What happened?"
"She fainted."
"Any medical conditions?"
"No—no, I don't know. She was fine this morning—just pale, tired—then she—"
They wheeled her away before I could finish.
And then… silence.
I stood there in the waiting room, her bag still clutched in my hand, every second stretching longer than the last.
For the first time in a long time, I felt helpless. Completely helpless.
The last words she'd said replayed in my head like a haunting echo — I didn't mean for this to happen.
Didn't mean for what to happen?
What was she trying to tell me before she—
"Sir," a nurse called.
I looked up instantly. "Is she okay?"
"She's stable," she said. "But the doctor will need to speak with you."
My chest tightened. "Is it serious?"
The nurse hesitated, eyes softening. "Just wait here, please."
And then she walked away, leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat and the terrifying realization that I was already too deep.
Because if something happened to her…
I wouldn't survive it.
I sat down slowly, my fingers gripping the armrest, staring at the double doors she'd just disappeared through.
Ashley Walter — the woman I wasn't supposed to want, the woman whose family name was practically poison to mine — had somehow become the center of my world.
And now she was lying behind those doors, unconscious, because I hadn't pushed hard enough to find out what was wrong.
I'd let her keep her secret.
And now, whatever it was… might destroy us both.
The clock ticked. The air felt heavy.
And for the first time, I realized — this wasn't about family anymore.
It wasn't about rivalry, or pride, or legacy.
It was about her.
The doors swung open again.
The doctor stepped out, scanning the room until his eyes landed on me. "Mr. Jean?"
I stood immediately. "That's me."
He nodded slowly. "We've run some tests on Miss Walter. There's something you need to know."
My heart stopped.
"What is it?"
He hesitated, his tone shifting. "It's… delicate."
The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy.
And in that moment — before he even said it — I knew my world was about to change.
Forever.