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I awoke to sunlight streaming through curtains, momentarily disoriented until I recognized my own bedroom.
The events of last night came rushing back–Caspar and Noah’s impromptu sleepover,” the bedtime story, falling asleep with Noah nestled
between us.
Turning my head, I found the space beside me empty.
The faint sounds of activity from my kitchen confirmed I wasn’t alone, though.
I stretched, preparing to get up.
‘Audrey! Daddy made pancakes!” Noah’s excited voice called from the hallway.
So began our first morning together–breakfast at my tiny kitchen table, Noah chattering about kindergarten, and Caspar looking surprisingly
at ease in my space.
We drove Noah to kindergarten together, his little backpack bouncing as he walked between us toward the school entrance.
“Bye, Daddy! Bye, Audrey!”
Noah called, turning to wave at us before disappearing through the doors.
As we walked back to the car, I caught Caspar watching me, a half–smile playing on his lips.
This morning–the breakfast, the school drop–off, the easy conversation–had felt so natural, so much like the family moments I’d always longed for but never experienced.
“What?” I asked, noticing his expression.
“Nothing,” he replied, opening the car door for me.
“It’s just nice, that’s all.”
Caspar navigated through morning traffic toward Thornton Group headquarters, both of us falling into a comfortable silence.
“Edward will prepare the room today,” Caspar said, finally breaking the quiet between us. “When were you planning to-
My phone rang, cutting him off.
I glanced at the screen, surprised to see Martha, the Bailey family’s housekeeper, calling.
Martha never called unless it was important.
“Hello?” I answered, a flicker of concern in my voice. “What’s wrong, Martha?”
“Miss Audrey,” Martha’s voice trembled, uncharacteristically emotional.
<
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Chapter 133
It’s Mrs. Bailey–Margaret. Shex in the hospital.
My heart sank. What happened?”
Mr. George asked her for money, Martha explained hurriedly.
“They argued, and then… her heart… she collapsed.
I gripped my handbag tightly, trying to steady my voice. ‘Which hospital?
“New York–Presbyterian. They ve taken her to the VIP wing.”
I’ll be there right away.”
I ended the call and turned to Caspar, who was watching me with concern, one hand still on the steering wheel.
“Margaret is in the hospital,” I explained, my voice tight.
I need to go there now.”
Without hesitation, Caspar changed lanes and made a sharp turn. “I’ll take you.”
“You don’t have to,” I said, though I felt grateful for his offer. “I know you have meetings at Thornton Group today.”
Caspar pulled out his phone and called his assistant.
‘James, reschedule the board meeting. Something urgent has come up.”
I watched him make this decision without a moment’s hesitation, something tightening in my chest.
Beneath the cold exterior, Caspar possessed a steady dependability that felt increasingly rare and precious.
When we arrived at the hospital, a nurse guided us to Margaret’s private room.
Through the glass door, I could see George, Eleanor, and Sienna already gathered inside.
My steps faltered momentarily, but Caspar’s hand on the small of my back steadied me.
I’d barely crossed the threshold when George’s head snapped up, his face contorting with immediate hostility.
“What are you doing here?” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
“You’re not a Bailey, you have no place here.”
I kept my
voice steady, despite the sting of his words.
“I’m here to see Margaret.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
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Chapter 133
“Is that so? Or are you here because you think there might be something it for you?
His voice dropped to a cruel whisper. ‘Let me guess—you’re wondering what might be left to you in der wit
I froze, genuinely stunned by the ugliness of his accusation.
The fact that his mind immediately went to inheritance–while Margaret lay it in her hospital bed–told to everything about us pris
“How dare you,” I hissed, my hands shaking with rage.
“Margaret is your mother. She’s just sick, not dying, and you’re already thinking about her inheritance? Do you have any humanity bf, Gesper
Any at all?”
‘Don’t pretend- George began, taking a step toward me.
“Is there a problem here?” Caspar’s cool, authoritative voice cut through the tension as he stepped into the zoom
The effect was immediate.
George’s mouth snapped shut, his expression transforming from righteous anger to shocked deference in an instant
“Mr. Thornton!” he stammered, his whole demeanor changing.
“I… we didn’t realize you were here. What an unexpected honor.”
The naked desperation to ingratiate himself with Caspar was almost pathetic.
I might have felt satisfaction at George’s discomfort if I wasn’t still trembling with anger.
I ignored him, moving directly to Margaret’s bedside.
She looked small and fragile against the white hospital sheets, her face pale but her eyes brightening when she saw the
“Audrey, dear,” she whispered, reaching for my hand.
I took her frail fingers in mine. “Martha called me. How are you feeling?”
“Old,” she said with a weak smile. “My heart isn’t what it used to be.”
Margaret’s gaze shifted to Caspar, and she offered him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry you had to witness such a scene, Mr. Thornton.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently wrapped my arms around her fragile frame, careful not to disturb any of the monitoring equipment.
“There, there,” Margaret soothed, patting my hand with maternal affection.
“Don’t worry so much. I’m old, dear. Getting sick happens at my age.”
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She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes tired but full of tenderness.
“I don’t have many regrets in my life, you know.”
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Her voice softened as she continued, “My only real concern now is you, Audrey, My greatest wish is to see you with a happy family of your ow
before I go.”
The emotion in her voice made my throat tighten.
Even now, lying in a hospital bed after a heart attack, her primary concern was my happiness.
I looked at her dear face, lined with years of kindness, and made a decision
“Margaret, there’s something you should know. I lowered my voice.
Caspar Thornton is Samuel West.”
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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.
