Valeria's pov
District 4. My underground clinic. My secret
Yes I'm a dropout, but my hands still remember how to save lives. I had the supplies,the patient lists. I just needed to clear the leave with the devil.
I pushed open the door to Alaric's office.
"Boss, I'll be taking personal leave this Friday. Emergency—"
He was hunched over his desk. Knuckles white against mahogany. Face a sickly, green.
"Get... out. I don't need a doctor," Alaric winced, his voice a jagged edge.
"Stand up. Let's get you help before your brain turns to mush." I didn't wait for permission. I dragged him up. He was heavy and pure muscle. "Your body is literally boiling that scotch you're always hammered on."
I grabbed his keys on the way out. It was early, the few employees we passed kept their distance. Nobody dared cross the boss, even when he was sagging against his assistant.
"Where can I even take you?" I hissed, praying he was still conscious.
"Penthouse... down the highway. Directions in the car," Alaric rasped. Then, he went limp.
This is way above my pay grade. I looked at him in the passenger seat.
Disgusting self-neglect. Of course his immune system was trashed, he lived on Scotch and spite. A bad combination for a human heart.
We reached the penthouse. Thankfully, his fingerprint activated the lock. I struggled to get him to the bed, finally dropping him onto the silk sheets.
I got to work. I stripped his sweat-soaked shirt to break the fever, then forced some drugs down his throat. I began tepid sponging ignoring the way my pulse jumped.
Then, my fingers traced the ridges of his abs.
Warm. Hard. Dangerous.
I jerked my hand back. Absolutely not. But the lamplight carved out the muscles of his chest.
It's just sympathetic arousal,Medical curiosity. It's been a long time, that's all. Sex is a biological need, Valeria. Don't confuse it with him.
Then I saw them. Scars.
Lower abdomen. Across his back. One specific mark looked like a fire burn. The same kind that leveled my father's company. For a second, the doctor in me died. The victim took her place
Alaric stirred, drifting through the fever. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron.
"I tried to save him," he mumbled. "He wouldn't listen. The Phoenix protocol is down."
My heart stopped.
No. He's dreaming. He was the monster in my story. There was no way he tried to save anyone.
The Phoenix protocol was my father's secret project. Only family and 2 other people knew it existed. Alaric hadn't just been a bystander or a liar. He had been in the room when it all went up in flames.
Before I could pull away, he hauled me down. His breath smelled of fever and scotch.
"Why are you still here?" he rasped. "Most would have run by now. Most are smart."
"Because I'm the only one who knows you're actually human, you arrogant jerk."
His lips were inches from mine. For one heartbeat, I almost gave in. The heat was intoxicating. Then I remembered the scars. My mission. I shoved him back onto the mattress.
I was sipping tea, my energy spent, when the front door swung open.
Seraphina stood there. She stared at the bed, then at the damp towels, then at me.
"Who the hell are you, and why are you in this bedroom?"
"Since you're the last one to the party," I said, taking a slow sip, "don't you think you should introduce yourself first?"
"This is my fiancé's apartment. Are you one of his bitches?"
Fiancé. Why did he ask me to the gala? Why play the single bachelor?
"I would have explained," I said nonchalantly, stirring my tea. "Had you tried being civil."
Seraphina lunged, hand raised to slap me. I caught her wrist mid-air.
" I'll sting you if you get any closer. We wouldn't want to ruin that perfect skin, would we?."
She recoiled, shaking Kaelan instead. "Alaric! Wake up! Look at what you brought home!"
"What a fiancé," I muttered. "Shaking a man with a fever. Brilliant."
"Why is his body hot?" she shrieked. "I'm calling security to throw this trash out!"
"Ten points for Gryffindor," I snapped, checking my watch. "Your fiancé had a 104-degree fever. I was his angel. If you're here for the 4:00 AM monitoring, be my guest. Otherwise, shush. I need my rest."
"You rat!"
"Stop... yelling."
Alaric's voice was hoarse but unmistakable. Seraphina's face transformed instantly. The ice melted into fake honey.
"Alaric, darling! This woman barged in. She's been touching you—"
"Correction," I said calmly. "Your fiancé found me preventing his brain from frying."
"Valeria."
His voice was cold. The ruthless CEO was back. The vulnerability from an hour ago was scrubbed clean. He didn't even look at me.
"You can leave now. My driver will compensate you for your... overtime."
I stared at him in disbelief. Overtime? I saved his life, and I was just an invoice to him. I turned and walked out before I could throw the tea in his face.
The next morning, I arrived at the office late. Furious.
Alaric's door was ajar. I stormed in. He was behind his desk, reviewing documents as if he hadn't been at death's door twelve hours ago. The only sign was the slight paleness of his skin.
"You threw me out," I said, slamming my purse on his desk. "I knew you were cold-hearted, but that was a new low. Even for a devil."
"You were no longer needed," Alaric said. He didn't even lift his eyes from the paper. "The crisis passed. Seraphina was there."
"No longer needed?" I chuckled darkly. My hands were shaking. "You used me as a bandage and tossed me when the bleeding stopped."
"That is your job description, Valeria. To be useful." He finally looked up. His eyes were dead.
"Fine. I've learned my lesson." I turned toward the door. "The next time you're dying? Don't call me. Call your fiancé. Let's see if her silk dress can break a fever."
I didn't wait for his reply. I slammed the door so hard even the angels heard.