The CEO's Secret Obsession-Chapter 118: "Let’s get married..."

[Hospital Room — Early Morning]

Morning light crept gently through the curtains, turning the sterile white room softer, kinder. The machines hummed steadily, no longer alarming.

Alexander was awake, propped slightly against the pillows, watching Evelyn without interrupting her.

She stood near the small table, carefully peeling an orange. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like she was afraid of breaking the calm if she rushed it.

"You are staring again," she said without looking up with a faint smile tugging at her lips.

He didn’t deny it. "I like watching you do normal things," he replied quietly. "It makes this place feel less hospital."

She walked back to the bed and sat beside him, handing him a piece of the orange. "Eat. The doctor said you need strength."

"Yes, ma’am," he teased, taking it from her fingers. Their hands lingered together longer than necessary.

She noticed immediately—the way his grip tightened just a little, like he needed reassurance that she was still there.

"You are okay," she murmured softly, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. "You are really okay."

"I am," he said. "Mostly because you haven’t left my side."

She leaned closer, resting her shoulder lightly against his arm. "I wasn’t going to."

They sat like that for a moment, quiet and close. The fear from the night before felt farther away now but dulled by his warmth, his breathing and the simple fact that he was alive.

"You know," he said after a while, "you don’t have to play nurse. I will survive if you rest."

She scoffed gently. "You don’t get to decide that. You scared me and this is your punishment."

He smiled, then softened when he saw the seriousness beneath her teasing.

"I am sorry," he said again, quieter this time.

"I know," she replied. "But that’s not what I want to talk about."

That made him look at her more carefully.

She inhaled slowly, gathering herself. "When I thought I lost you, everything else just stopped mattering."

His fingers stilled in hers.

"I don’t want to wait anymore," she continued, her voice steady but full. "I don’t want to keep telling myself there’s time later. When you are better—when the doctors say you can—I want us to get married. Soon."

The words hung between them.

Alexander blinked, caught off guard—not by fear but by the weight of her certainty.

"Soon?" he echoed softly.

She nodded, eyes shining but calm. "As soon as possible. I don’t care about perfect timing. I care about you."

Emotion rose sharp in his chest. He reached for her face carefully, as if afraid she might vanish.

"Evelyn," His voice was rough. "You don’t have to decide that because of fear."

"I am not," she said immediately. "I am deciding because loving you has already changed everything for me."

He exhaled, something in him finally easing, like he had been holding his breath for months without realizing it.

Before he could say anything, the door opened.

Margaret entered first, cane tapping once against the floor with familiar authority. Pauline followed close behind, carrying a small container and wearing a hopeful smile.

"Well," Margaret said, eyes sharp and satisfied as she took in the scene. "You are awake."

Alexander smiled faintly. "Good morning, Grandmother."

Pauline stepped closer, touching his shoulder gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," he replied honestly.

Margaret’s gaze shifted to Evelyn—taking in her closeness, their joined hands, the unspoken understanding between them.

Her lips curved knowingly.

"I see," she said dryly. "We arrived at an interesting moment."

Evelyn’s cheeks warmed but she didn’t pull away.

Pauline smiled softly. "Did we interrupt?"

Alexander glanced at Evelyn, something tender and unshakable in his eyes.

"Not really," he said.

Margaret hummed in approval. "Good. Then I will assume progress is being made."

And for the first time since waking up in that hospital bed, Alexander felt something settle deep in his chest.

It was not relief or survival but the quiet certainty that he wasn’t facing anything alone anymore.

.....

[Reid Mansion — Benjamin’s Study]

The study was unusually still.

Benjamin sat behind his desk, reading the same page for the third time even though he already knew every word on it. The report lay open in front of him, thick with technical jargon, diagrams, timestamps and photographs.

He didn’t need to read it again.

The conclusion was already burned into his mind.

A soft knock broke the silence.

"Sir," the butler said carefully, "Mr. Lucas is here to see you."

Benjamin looked up slowly.

"Lucas is here," he repeated, more curious than surprised. "Send him in."

The door opened a moment later.

Lucas stepped inside, dressed casually but alert, his usual easy confidence tempered by something more serious.

His gaze swept the room, taking in the files, the rigid set of Benjamin’s shoulders.

"You wanted to see me?" Lucas asked.

Benjamin studied him for a beat, then gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."

Lucas did.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then Benjamin slid the report across the desk.

"Read the last page."

Lucas frowned slightly but took it, his eyes moving quickly over the text. The longer he read, the more his expression changed—the casual ease draining away, replaced by something sharper.

"Clean cut," Lucas murmured, reading aloud. "Brake lines severed with precision. No signs of wear, corrosion or mechanical failure."

He looked up slowly.

"That’s not an accident."

"No," Benjamin agreed quietly. "It’s not."

Lucas exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair. "Someone knew exactly where to cut and how much."

Benjamin folded his hands. "Which means intent."

Lucas’s jaw tightened. "And access."

Benjamin watched him carefully. "What do you think?"

Lucas didn’t answer immediately.

He stared at the report again, then set it down deliberately. "There are two possibilities," he said finally. "Either someone outside wanted Alexander dead or disabled badly enough to risk this kind of exposure—"

Benjamin waited.

"Or—" Lucas continued, voice lower now, "it’s someone inside who knows the car, the timing and the routine."

Silence pressed down between them.

Benjamin’s eyes didn’t waver. "And?"

Lucas met his gaze. "And if it’s internal, the list gets very short."

Benjamin didn’t say anything for a while, then he nodded once. "You are thinking of Jack."

....