Sophie Shaw’s face alternated between pale and ashen.

The nausea in her stomach churned violently, rising and falling with her turbulent emotions.

"HURK—"

She threw up.

She threw up all over the back seat of Damian Morgan’s expensive Rolls-Royce.

"Sophie Shaw, you’re disgusting," Vianne Kane said, covering her mouth and nose. She rolled down the passenger window, her brow furrowed as she urged in a muffled voice, "Damian, stop the car! Pull over, now!"

Damian Morgan yanked the steering wheel, pulling the car over to the side of the road.

Vianne Kane immediately threw open her door and scrambled out, putting as much distance between herself and the car as possible.

The moment she was out, she pulled on a hat and mask, terrified of being recognized.

Sophie Shaw got out too. Her stomach was cramping painfully, and she couldn’t spare a thought for the pool of vomit on the back seat. Clutching her abdomen, she sat down on the curb.

"You made the mess. Aren’t you going to clean it up?"

Vianne Kane reached out and grabbed her arm, but Sophie slapped her hand away.

"Don’t touch me. I feel sick. If I puke on you, don’t say I didn’t warn you."

At those words, Vianne Kane looked like she wanted to be a million miles away from her.

Damian Morgan, on the other hand, said nothing. He simply opened all the doors to air out the car before cleaning up the mess on the back seat.

The smell in the car began to fade, but Vianne Kane was still disgusted. She pulled a bottle of perfume from her purse and started spraying it furiously inside the car. The original odor was almost gone, but her efforts filled the vehicle with an overpowering, cloying fragrance.

When Sophie Shaw got back in the car, the scent was so strong it made her head spin.

She managed to hold on until they reached the hospital. Following behind Damian Morgan and Vianne Kane, she headed straight for the inpatient wing.

"Grandpa." Vianne Kane’s voice was already thick with tears the moment she entered the room.

She all but threw herself at the hospital bed, yanking down her mask to tightly grip Mr. Kane’s hand. "Grandpa, how are you? What did the doctor say? When can you go home?"

"It’s nothing serious. Don’t worry."

The old man had suddenly felt unwell that morning, so Bianca Kane and Joseph Shaw had arranged to bring him to the hospital. His symptoms had since subsided; it wasn’t anything major.

"Then when can you go home?"

"The doctor wants me to stay for a few days of observation."

As he spoke, the old man noticed Sophie Shaw standing in the back. His expression soured, and his tone grew colder. "The rest of you, leave. I want to speak with Vianne alone."

Sophie Shaw was closest to the door. She turned, pulled it open, and was the first to leave.

Damian Morgan followed, along with Bianca Kane, who was arm-in-arm with Joseph Shaw. The couple went to find the doctor, leaving Sophie and Damian alone outside the room.

Her stomach was still bothering her, so she sat down in one of the hallway chairs.

Damian Morgan walked over and sat down beside her. "Stomach acting up again?"

"Just a little nausea."

"If you feel that bad, you should see a doctor. Don’t put it off."

Sophie Shaw fell silent, a wave of irritation washing over her. She turned to Damian Morgan, her voice chillingly cold. "Are you worried about me?"

"You’re my ex, after all..."

"Aren’t you afraid your Vianne will get jealous?"

Damian Morgan didn’t answer. He stood, grabbed her arm, and hauled her to her feet.

"Come on. Let’s find a doctor and get you some medicine."

"Let go."

Not only did Damian Morgan not let go, but he started dragging her toward the elevators.

"I can see a doctor and get my own medicine. I don’t need your phony concern," Sophie Shaw struggled. "If you don’t let go, I’ll scream for Vianne Kane."

"Heh."

Damian Morgan snorted. "Trying to scare me with Vianne... OOF!"

DING—

As the elevator chimed, a sharp pain erupted in Damian Morgan’s groin.

In her struggle, the purse she was carrying had accidentally slammed into his crotch.

The color drained from the man’s face as his straight back slowly hunched over. His grip on Sophie Shaw’s arm slackened.

Sophie Shaw backed away, only to see Damian Morgan, neck rigid and face flushed crimson, clutch his family jewels as he collapsed to the floor.

A long leg stepped out of the elevator, striding right over Damian Morgan’s body.

"What a coincidence."

As if he hadn’t even seen the man on the floor, Alaric Blackwood strolled up to Sophie Shaw in two long strides, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his suit trousers.

"What are you doing here?"

Sophie Shaw’s eyes widened.

"I heard Chairman Kane was hospitalized and came to pay a visit."

Alaric Blackwood had been handling business nearby when he got a call from Quentin Blackwood, who told him to pick something up on the way and visit the patient on behalf of the Blackwood Family.

He turned to the woman in the sharp, professional suit who had followed him out of the elevator and held out his hand. "Assistant Wynn, the gift."

Lydia Wynn handed him the health supplements she was carrying, glancing at her watch as she reminded him, "Mr. Blackwood, you have a meeting in thirty minutes."

"I know."

Alaric Blackwood took the gift, his eyes flicking to Damian Morgan, who was still curled up on the floor. His gaze darkened for an instant, but when he looked back up at Sophie Shaw, his charming eyes curved into a smile. "Which room is it? Lead the way?"

"Follow me."

Sophie Shaw turned and led Alaric Blackwood to the door of Mr. Kane’s room, then stepped aside.

Seeing through the door’s glass window that only Mr. Kane and Vianne Kane were inside, Alaric Blackwood knocked once before pushing the door open and walking in.

Sophie had just sat back down in her chair when someone settled in beside her.

It was Alaric Blackwood’s assistant, Lydia Wynn.

The woman had regular, well-defined features and an air of cool detachment. Her indifferent gaze swept over Sophie, sizing her up from head to toe.

When their eyes met, the woman gave a slight nod, a silent acknowledgment that passed for a greeting.

’I can’t help but recall what Vianne Kane said on the way to the hospital—that Alaric Blackwood was sleeping with his assistant.’

"Shouldn’t someone check on that man?" Lydia Wynn suddenly asked, gesturing toward the elevators where Damian Morgan was now using the wall to pull himself to his feet.

Sophie grunted, "No need."

The man shot her an angry glare before stepping into an elevator. He was headed to register with the urology department, terrified something was seriously wrong with his family jewels.

Sophie only had to wait a few minutes outside the room before Alaric Blackwood emerged.

"You don’t look so good."

Alaric Blackwood immediately noticed something was wrong.

Her small face was as white as a sheet.

She forced a smile. "I’m fine. Just an upset stomach. It’s an old problem."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"I will in a bit."

"We’re going now."

He stepped forward, about to take Sophie Shaw’s hand, when Lydia Wynn rose to her feet. "Mr. Blackwood, you still have the meeting at the office."

Alaric Blackwood looked up at Lydia Wynn, his gaze was ice-cold.

Lydia Wynn didn’t flinch under his stare. "Mr. Blackwood, the meeting starts in twenty-three minutes. We could hit traffic. We need to leave now."

The man stared at her, then pulled his phone from his trousers and made a call right in front of her. "Postpone the meeting for an hour."

With that, he hung up, grabbed Sophie Shaw’s hand, and strode toward the elevators.

Lydia Wynn hurried after them. "Mr. Blackwood—"

She caught up to them at the elevators but couldn’t get inside before the doors closed, shutting her out.

The elevator began its slow descent.

Sophie Shaw’s hand was still held fast in Alaric Blackwood’s large palm. She tried to pull it free, but couldn’t.

"Mr. Blackwood, you really don’t have to take me to the doctor. I can go by myself."

The chill in the man’s eyes hadn’t fully faded. Seeing her try to pull her hand away again, he tightened his grip and yanked her sharply toward him.

She stumbled into his chest. His other arm wrapped powerfully around her waist, pulling her body flush against his.