Nathaniel’s brow tightened slightly.
Beside him, Vivian caught the name on his screen, and something unreadable flickered behind her eyes confusion, and something else harder to name.
“Nathaniel?” she prompted, noticing his hesitation.
That snapped him back.
Vivian’s phone was still open to the gossip storm about her late-night visit to his office, and now Eliana was calling.
Looking for an explanation?
His jaw tightened.
He tapped the decline button.
Seconds later, his phone buzzed again.
Another call.
And he already knew it wouldn’t be the last.
Irritation flared under his skin.
“Aren’t you going to pick up?” Vivian asked.
He declined the call again and switched his phone to Do Not Disturb.
“Ignore it,” he said, flat and even.
Vivian looked like she wanted to say something, then stopped herself.
She nodded, a little uneasy on the surface.
But the second she looked down, satisfaction flickered across her face.
Exactly as planned.
She’d made sure to bring up that video, made sure he’d seen the worst of the gossip, timed precisely so he’d have every reason to keep ignoring Eliana’s calls.
“Let’s head out, it’s getting late.”
Nathaniel grabbed his coat and helped Vivian to her feet.
They rode the private executive elevator down from the top floor of Cole Tower together.
While photographers outside caught the two of them leaving photos already spreading online within minutes Eliana was being lifted out of an ambulance.
The gurney rolled fast through the hospital doors, blood tracking slowly down her forehead, soaking into the white sheet beneath her.
She drifted in and out of consciousness, catching only fractured glimpses of fluorescent lights streaking past overhead.
Noise pressed in from every side, the officer’s anxious voice cutting through clearest.
“I’ve called her husband twice straight to voicemail both times.
What should I do?”
“Try again?”
What if he still doesn’t pick up?
“Forget it for now, did you see the state of that car door?
We can see the head wound, but there could be internal injuries we haven’t even found yet!”
“Get her into treatment first!
Keep trying the calls in the background!”
“Copy that!”
More noise, more urgency.
Something close to an argument was breaking out somewhere nearby in the hospital.
Eliana drifted between awareness and blackness, the sharp scent of antiseptic filling her senses.
Through the chaos, she caught Chloe’s voice unmistakable, raised, furious.
Chloe shouted something, and Eliana was rushed straight into the emergency room.
Then the darkness took her completely.
…
Chloe was beyond furious.
Watching Eliana wheeled past, blood matting her hair, sent a spike of raw fear through her chest.
By sheer luck, the ambulance had brought her to Ashford General.
By sheer luck, Chloe happened to be pulling a late shift.
By sheer luck, she’d been close enough to hear the commotion and come running.
They were mid-argument over how to proceed.
In an emergency like this, none of the attending staff had any idea Eliana was pregnant.
Thank god Chloe knew the full picture.
And thank god her own father ran the hospital because that gave her the authority to actually push things through.
Otherwise, there was no telling what might have happened in that gap.
Chloe spotted the officer nearby holding Eliana’s phone, already dialing someone, and crossed over to her.
She explained she was Eliana’s doctor and closest friend.
The officer, recognizing her as someone connected to the patient, handed the phone over.
The screen was packed with a dense wall of missed calls, and that alone was enough to reignite Chloe’s fury.
Buzz!
Her own phone lit up.
A trending notification.
#NathanielColeAndVivianBlakeLeaveColeTowerTogetherInOneCar#
Right.
Not answering his phone because he was too busy leaving with his mistress.
Chloe dialed him immediately.
First call: no answer.
The second call connected just before it would have gone to voicemail.
“What.” Nathaniel’s voice came through, ice-cold.
“What?” Chloe exploded.
“Why weren’t you answering Eliana’s calls?!”
In the driver’s seat of his Aston Martin, Nathaniel’s frown deepened.
Recognizing Chloe’s number, his voice went even colder.
“Did Eliana put you up to this call?”
“No!” Chloe shouted back.
“I called you myself, on my own!”
The light ahead turned red.
He braked, scrolling back through the string of Do Not Disturb notifications he’d ignored.
Dozens of missed calls.
Huh.
What exactly had Eliana talked Chloe into doing?
The light turned green, and he eased the Aston Martin forward again.
His mood stayed just as level as the car’s smooth acceleration.
From the moment Vivian had walked into his office, his phone had been buzzing nonstop.
Wasn’t it obvious what Eliana was trying to pull?
“Get to Ashford General.
Right now,” Chloe ordered.
“I’m not coming,” Nathaniel said coldly.
Eliana had probably run straight to Chloe to cry about something, same as always.
Except this time she’d escalated, actually sent Chloe to harass him directly.
Ever since the divorce conversation started, her temper had gotten steadily worse.
“She was hit by a car.”
Chloe’s voice shifted from white-hot fury to something flat and cold.
Then, one final line, sharp as a blade
“Nathaniel Cole.
If you have any conscience left at all, get over here.”
Screech
He slammed the brakes.
The car jolted to a stop.
Horns blared behind him, drivers cursing.
Nathaniel stared at the dial tone left behind after Chloe hung up, his knuckles white against the wheel.
Beside him, Vivian had heard every word.
Her phone, resting face-up on the console, lit up right then.
She glanced at it, tucked it away quickly, then turned to him with wide, worried eyes.
“Nathaniel, do you think something’s actually happened to her?
We need to get to the hospital, now!”
She looked genuinely alarmed.
“This doesn’t sound minor.
It could be serious!”
“It’s a good thing they took her to Ashford General Chloe is her best friend, isn’t she?
At least she’ll be looked after properly.”
“Nathaniel, please, let’s just go!
She called you dozens of times, that has to mean something urgent!”
Vivian’s voice cracked with worry, right on the edge of tears.
The moment she looked down, though, her eyes sharpened into something calculating.
A car accident.
Serious, on its face.
But convenient, wasn’t it?
Landing at the exact hospital where her best friend worked.
Whose father happened to run the place.
And somehow, in the middle of an emergency, still finding time to call Nathaniel dozens of times?
What looked like concern read, to Vivian, like something staged.
A performance, orchestrated by Eliana and Chloe together.
Not that she had any intention of letting Nathaniel see it that way.
She let the tears fall, perfectly genuine-looking.
“Nathaniel, I want to stay by your side, but if something happens to her, I’ll carry that guilt forever…”
Mid-sentence, she turned and gagged.
When she straightened, a thin trickle of blood sat at the corner of her mouth.
Catching the flash of worry in his eyes, she quietly tucked the burst capsule back into her bag and shook her head.
“Don’t worry about me.
Just go.
Please.”
Nathaniel’s mouth pressed into a hard line.
He restarted the car, and the Aston Martin swung around, heading straight for Ashford General.