Alice's POV
I was losing my mind.
My hands shook so badly I dropped my phone twice trying to call the hospital back. The photo on my screen mocked me—the stranger from the bar standing next to my dying mother like they were old friends. Like he knew I'd be here. Like this whole night was planned.
"Miss, are you alright?" The bartender's worried voice cut through my panic.
"The man," I said again, my voice rising. "The one I was talking to—dark hair, expensive suit. He was RIGHT THERE." I pointed at the empty stool.
The bartender exchanged looks with another customer. That look. The one that said she's crazy.
"I think you should go home," he said gently. "Let me call you a cab—"
"I'm not drunk!" I wasn't. Okay, maybe I was a little, but I knew what I saw. What I felt. He was real. He touched my face. He said my name.
He said my name.
I stumbled toward the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The mirror showed a mess—red eyes, smeared makeup, hair still damp from the rain. I looked exactly like someone having a mental breakdown.
Maybe I was.
My phone rang. Unknown number. Again.
"What do you want from me?" I snapped when I answered.
"Alice." His voice. The stranger's voice—smooth and deep and somehow both warm and dangerous. "Don't hang up."
I should've hung up. Should've blocked the number and run home and pretended this whole nightmare day never happened.
Instead, I whispered, "How do you know my name?"
"Look behind you."
I spun around.
He stood in the bathroom doorway—very real, very solid, very much not a hallucination. Up close, he was even more devastating. Tall enough that I had to tilt my head back. Those gold-brown eyes fixed on me like I was the only person in the world.
"You disappeared," I said, hating how my voice shook.
"I had to make a call." He stepped closer, hands in his pockets like he was trying to look less threatening. It didn't work. Everything about him screamed danger. "But I came back. For you."
"The bartender said—"
"The bartender was mistaken." Another step. "Or maybe he was protecting your privacy. People see what they want to see, Alice. What they're paid to see."
Ice shot down my spine. "What does that mean?"
"It means..." He stopped right in front of me, so close I could smell his cologne—something expensive and woodsy that made my head spin worse than the alcohol. "I need to talk to you. Really talk to you. Not here."
"About my mother."
His jaw tightened. "Among other things."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who's been looking for you for a very long time." His hand reached out slowly, like he was approaching a scared animal. His fingers brushed my wrist—just barely, but it sent electricity up my arm. "Come with me. Please. Let me explain everything."
Every instinct screamed danger. This man knew too much. Appeared too conveniently. Was too perfect, too interested, too everything.
But when I looked in his eyes, I didn't see a threat. I saw the same loneliness I felt. The same desperate need for connection. The same brokenness.
"One hour," I heard myself say. "You get one hour to explain, then I'm going to the hospital."
Relief flooded his face. "Thank you."
He led me to the elevator, his hand ghosting against my lower back—protective, not possessive. We rode up in silence, the tension so thick I could barely breathe. Floor numbers climbed. 10. 15. 20. 25.
The top floor.
Of course.
The penthouse doors opened into a suite bigger than my entire apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city sparkling below us. But I barely noticed. All I could focus on was him, removing his jacket, loosening that tie completely, running a hand through his dark hair.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to a couch that probably cost more than my car. "Please."
I sat. He poured water from a fancy bottle, handed it to me. Our fingers touched and that electricity sparked again. He felt it too—I saw his breath catch.
"Start talking," I said, trying to sound brave.
He sat across from me, elbows on his knees, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. "What do you know about your mother's accident?"
"Accident?" The word hit me like a slap. "Nobody said anything about an accident."
"Three months ago. Car crash. She's been in the hospital since then, in and out of consciousness." His voice went soft. "She kept asking for you. Every time she woke up. Just your name. Over and over."
Tears burned my eyes. "We haven't spoken in five years."
"I know."
"She kicked me out. Said I was a disappointment—"
"I know that too." He leaned forward. "Alice, your mother has been trying to find you for two years. Since before the accident. She hired people to track you down, but you'd moved, changed jobs, cut all contact. She was desperate."
"Why?" It came out broken. "Why would she care now?"
"Because she's dying." Brutal honesty. "And because she has things to tell you. Important things. About your father. About your family. About who you really are."
I laughed—that hysterical sound again. "I know who I am. I'm nobody. Just Alice Chen, the plain, boring girl nobody wants—"
"Stop." He moved to the couch beside me so fast I gasped. His hands cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Don't ever call yourself that again. You're not nobody. You're not plain. You're not boring."
"You don't know me—"
"I know you're strong enough to survive betrayal and still have the courage to feel." His thumb brushed my cheek. "I know you're beautiful even when you're crying in a bar at rock bottom. I know every word out of your ex-boyfriend's mouth was a lie designed to keep you small because he was terrified you'd realize you were better than him."
My breath caught. "How do you know what he said?"
His eyes flickered with something dark. "I make it my business to know things. Especially about people who hurt the ones I'm protecting."
"Protecting? You don't even know—" I stopped. "Wait. You've been watching me?"
"Watching over you." He corrected. "For three months. Since your mother's accident. She made me promise to find you, to keep you safe until she could tell you everything."
My head spun. "This is insane."
"I know."
"I should leave."
"I know." But his hands didn't move from my face. "But you won't. Because you feel it too."
"Feel what?"
"This." He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching mine. "This connection. Like we've known each other forever. Like tonight wasn't random chance but something the universe has been building toward."
He was right. I hated that he was right.
"Who are you?" I whispered.
"Does it matter?" His voice went rough. "Right now, in this moment, does it matter if I'm rich or poor, important or nobody? Can't I just be the man who thinks you're incredible? The man who wants to take away your pain, even just for one night?"
"This is crazy—"
"Everything about today is crazy." His golden eyes searched mine. "You lost your boyfriend, your best friend, and found out your mother is dying. I'm offering you one night where none of that matters. One night where you can just be Alice, and I can just be someone who sees you. Really sees you."
"I don't even know your name."
"Does it matter?" he asked again.
And somehow, it didn't.
I kissed him first. Surprised myself. But I was so tired of being careful, of being safe, of being the girl who never took risks. I was tired of hurting.
He kissed me back like I was air and he was drowning.
Everything else disappeared—Derek, Lily, my mother, all the pain. There was only this moment, this man, this feeling of being wanted. Really wanted. Not tolerated. Not convenient. Wanted.
"Alice," he breathed against my lips. "If you want to stop—"
"I don't want to stop." I pulled him closer. "I don't want to think. I don't want to hurt. I just want to feel something good. Please."
"Okay." He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my jaw. "Okay. I've got you. I promise."
And for the first time in forever, I believed someone.
Hours later, I woke up wrapped in sheets softer than clouds, my head on his chest, his arm around me like he was scared I'd disappear. Early morning light filtered through those massive windows. He was still asleep, his face peaceful in a way it hadn't been awake.
I should leave. Should slip out before this got complicated.
But I felt safe. For the first time in months, maybe years, I felt safe.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand. I shouldn't have looked. Shouldn't have seen the screen light up with a message.
But I did.
JAMES: The board meeting was moved to 8 AM. Also, security called—Derek Wu was spotted outside the building again. Want me to handle it?
My blood went cold. Derek? Outside this building?
Another message appeared: Also, the prenup documents for the Chen situation are ready for your review, Mr. Ashford.
Mr. Ashford.
Chen situation.
Prenup.
I sat up so fast my head spun. Grabbed my clothes scattered across the floor. My hands shook as I pulled them on.
This wasn't random. This wasn't fate. This was planned. All of it.
He knew about Derek. He had security. He had documents with my name on them.
I was halfway to the door when his voice stopped me—rough with sleep and something that sounded like panic.
"Alice, wait—"
I turned. He was sitting up now, sheets pooled around his waist, looking devastatingly beautiful and absolutely terrified.
"Who are you?" I demanded. "Really. No more games."
He stood slowly, hands up like I was the dangerous one. "My name is Miles Ashford. And your mother—" He took a breath. "Your mother is my father's half-sister. Which makes you—"
The room tilted.
"—my cousin."