Chapter 22
Caspar’s POV:
“Send me the footage, I commanded, my fingers drumming impatiently against the leather armrest
James’s voice crackled through the phone’s speaker. ‘Sir, about that… The surveillance only retains footage for seven days. The recordings from your stay have already been automatically deleted.”
My jaw clenched. “Then recover them!”
I’ve already contacted their IT department, James replied hastily. “They’re working on data recovery, but it will take time.
The muscle in my cheek twitched.
Someone had dared to enter my hotel room that night in London, left that mocking note and a hundred dollars as if I were some kind of escort.
I have to find this reckless woman!
“The moment you recover anything, send it to me immediately,” I instructed James firmly.
I ended the call, my attention suddenly drawn to movement outside the car window.
Through the tinted window, I watched a black SUV accelerating erratically down the street.
My gaze tracked ahead to its apparent target: a pink motorcycle weaving through the evening traffic.
That motorcycle. Those ridiculous Hello Kitty stickers.
It’s Audrey.
The SUV wasn’t slowing down. If anything, it was gaining speed, clearly intent on intercepting the motorcycle at the upcoming intersection.
The driver’s intention was obvious.
“Stop that car!” I barked at
my
driver.
But it was too late.
The impact came with a sickening crunch of metal and glass.
The pink motorcycle went airborne for a heart–stopping moment before crashing onto the asphalt.
Fortunately, Audrey had managed to leap from the motorcycle at the last second, a desperate move that likely saved her life.
Still, she rolled several times across the harsh pavement before coming to rest near the sidewalk, motionless.
Screams erupted from pedestrians. Someone was already calling 911.
The SUV had fled the scene–a hit and run.
1/4
3:05 pm P M
Chapter 22
I reached Audrey in seconds, my hands trembling slightly as I checked for a pulse. Weak but steady.
Her face was pale, almost translucent under the streetlights.
“Sir, the ambulance is five minutes out, my driver reported, having followed me.
“We’re not waiting.” I carefully lifted Audrey, cradling her against my chest. The nearest hospital. Now.”
The emergency room at Mount Sinai was its usual controlled chaos.
I burst through the doors with Audrey in my arms, and immediately, medical staff swarmed around us.
“What happened?‘ A nurse asked while guiding us to a trauma bay.
“Hit and run. Motorcycle accident on Fifth Avenue,” I replied tersely, setting Audrey on the gurney.
“Are you her husband?” the nurse asked, already starting her assessment.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second. Explaining our complicated non–relationship would waste precious time. “Yes.”
She nodded, accepting my answer without question. “We’ll take good care of your wife, Mr…?”
“Thornton. Caspar Thornton.”
I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes, but to her credit, she remained professional.
“Please wait in the family lounge, Mr. Thornton. The doctor will update you as soon as possible.”
They wheeled Audrey away, and I was left standing in the suddenly empty trauma bay, her blood staining my gray suit.
Two hours crawled by before a doctor finally appeared.
“Mr. Thornton? Your wife is stable. She has a concussion, several lacerations requiring stitches, and extensive bruising. No internal bleeding or broken bones -she was incredibly lucky.”
“When can I see her?”
‘She’s being moved to a private room now. Room 512. She’s still unconscious, but that’s normal given the trauma and sedation.”
The private room was dim, lit only by the various medical monitors and the city lights filtering through the blinds.
Audrey lay in the hospital bed, looking impossibly small and fragile.
I settled into the chair beside her bed, studying her face in the half–light.
A soft moan pulled me from my thoughts.
2/4
3:05 pm PM
Chapter 22
Audrey’s eyelids fluttered, and slowly, her eyes focused on me.
Where am 17‘ she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. What happened? How did we end up here?
The concussion clearly affecting her awareness of the situation.
“You were in an accident, I said, keeping my tone neutral. I happened to be passing by.
“How do you feel?
Like I got hit by a car,‘ she deadpanned, then frowned.
“Wait, did I actually get hit by a car?”
An SUV, technically. Hit and run.”
Audrey closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration.
After a moment, her expression gradually cleared, awareness returning to her features.
It was obvious she’d remembered what happened.
Her gaze drifted to my gray suit, noticing the bloodstains that marked the fabric.
You saved me,‘ she said softly, her voice gratitude. ‘Thank you.”
A knock interrupted us. A nurse entered with a fresh IV bag, her face lighting up when she saw Audrey awake.
“Oh wonderful, you’re conscious! How are you feeling, Mrs. Thornton?”
Audrey’s eyes widened comically. “Mrs. what?”
The nurse looked between us, confused. “Your husband has been so worried. He hasn’t left your side.”
“He’s not my-” Audrey started, her voice sharp despite her condition.
“She’s still disoriented from the concussion,” I interjected smoothly. “The doctor mentioned possible confusion.”
The nurse nodded sympathetically. “Of course. That’s completely normal. I’ll just change this IV and let you rest.”
As soon as the nurse left, Audrey fixed me with a glare that would have been more effective if she didn’t look like a angry kitten.
‘Husband?‘
“It was expedient,” I said, not meeting her gaze. “They needed someone to make medical decisions if necessary.”
“And you couldn’t just say you were a concerned citizen? A friend? My employer, technically?”
“Would they have let a concerned citizen stay?”
3/4
8:05 pm P M
Chapter 22
She opened her mouth, closed it, then sighed. “I suppose not. But still…”
‘I’ll correct the misunderstanding later.”
Audrey hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. “You better. ”
An awkward silence fell between us, the beeping of the medical equipment suddenly very loud in the quiet room.
“I should go handle the paperwork, I finally said, standing up. ‘Since you’re awake now, you should probably contact your family. They must be worried sick
about you.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
