The morning light filtered into the room, soft and silent, as the private nurse finished securing the IV line on Esme’s wrist.
She adjusted the clear tubing carefully before stepping back to look at Esme.
“Ma’am, please be careful not to yank it out again,” the nurse said gently, her voice full of professional concern.
“It needs to stay in place for the medication to work.” Esme offered a small, contrite smile, her eyes dipping down toward the bandage on her wrist.
“I won’t.
I promise.” “Good,” the nurse smiled back, taking note of her vitals.
“Now, you need to eat something first so you can take your medicine on a full stomach.” “I can just call Silvia to bring something up,” Esme offered, leaning back against her pillows.
“No need, I’ll head down to the kitchen and ask for a tray myself,” the nurse said efficiently.
She turned, walked to the bedroom door, and let herself out into the hallway, closing the heavy wooden door softly behind her.
Left alone, Esme let out a long, weary sigh.
She lifted her arm, staring at the thick bandage wrapping her wrist, and shook her head in self-reproach.
“What a completely stupid thing I did yesterday,” she thought, rubbing her temples.
She let out a soft yawn, feeling the lingering weight of exhaustion in her bones.
A moment later, the door handle clicked and swung open.
“Oh, that was fast…” Esme started, expecting the nurse, but her words died in her throat.
Rowan stepped into the room, his hands casually resting in his trousers pockets.
He closed the door gently behind him and met her gaze.
Esme immediately rolled her eyes, her posture stiffening.
“What are you doing here?” He walked toward the side of her bed, his expression unreadable, though a slight softening lingered around his eyes.
“I came to check up on you.” “Well, I don’t need to see your face right now,” she shot back, crossing her arms carefully over her chest to avoid straining her wrist.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of Rowan’s mouth as he looked down at her.
“That’s funny.
You couldn’t seem to get enough of my face last night.” Esme’s eyes widened in sudden, sharp alarm.
A wave of heat rushed to her cheeks.
“What…
what do you mean?” Rowan tilted his head slightly, his tone infuriatingly calm.
“It’s a secret.” She quickly looked away, fighting the sudden spike in her heart rate.
“I don’t even want to know,” she muttered dismissively, though her mind immediately went into overdrive.
“I hope I didn’t do anything stupid or embarrassing…
God, what did I say to him?
I’m going crazy wanting to know.” Without asking, Rowan sat down on the edge of the mattress, right near her legs.
Esme instantly pulled her knees inward, shifting her lower body as far away from him as the bed allowed.
He just sat there, watching her silently.
“What?” she snapped, uncomfortable under his persistent stare.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He offered a rare, genuine smile, his voice dropping an octave.
“Nothing.
You’re just incredibly beautiful.” Esme’s face twisted into an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Don’t even start with that…” She scoffed, turning her head toward the window, and muttered under her breath, “Bastard.” Rowan let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.
He looked down at his hands, sighed softly, and then looked back up at her, changing his tone entirely.
“What are the places you wish to visit?” Esme blinked, thrown off by the sudden pivot.
“What do you mean?” He looked at her slowly, his dark eyes searching her face.
“Before you married me…
you wished to have a normal life.
Go on vacations.
Travel freely.
Right?” Esme’s breath caught in her throat.
Her eyes widened as a sudden realization hit her.
“How…
how do you know that?” She gasped, her face flushing as she pieced it together.
“Did I say that to you last night?” She bit her lip tightly and closed her eyes in sheer embarrassment, screaming internally.
“You absolute idiot, Esme.” Rowan ignored her internal crisis, keeping his focus steady on her.
“So, what are they?
Where do you want to go?” Esme opened her eyes and hardened her expression, building her walls right back up.
“I don’t want to go anywhere.
And even if I did, I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.” Rowan let out a low sigh, though he didn’t press her further.
Right then, the door opened, interrupting the heavy atmosphere.
The nurse walked back into the room holding a silver tray loaded with a warm bowl of oatmeal, a small side of fresh fruit, and a cup of herbal tea.
She closed the door behind her with her elbow and stepped toward the bed.
Rowan stood up from the mattress, clearing the path.
The nurse carefully handed the tray to Esme, who immediately melted her hostile expression, looking up at the nurse with a bright, warm smile.
“Thank you so much.” Rowan stood at the foot of the bed, watching the stark contrast between how she treated the nurse and how she treated him.
Esme caught him looking, her smile vanishing into a cold glare.
“What!” she snapped at him.
“Are you going to stand there and watch me eat?” He smirked, placing his hands back into his pockets.
“I can if I want to.” Esme raised a single eyebrow in disbelief.
“What…” Before she could finish her sentence, the sharp ring of Rowan’s phone echoed through the quiet room.
He pulled the device from his pocket, checked the caller ID, and sighed subtly.
“But unfortunately, I can’t,” he murmured, his gaze flicking back to her.
“You mean fortunately,” Esme corrected sharply.
Rowan looked up from his screen, a slow, dangerous smirk spreading across his lips.
“No.” Esme scoffed, leaning back as he answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear.
Without another word to her, he turned, opened the door, and walked out, letting it click shut gently behind him.
Esme stared at the closed door for a few seconds, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“What is up with him today?” she thought to herself before picking up her spoon and focusing on her breakfast.
Downstairs, Rowan descended the grand staircase with swift, light steps, his phone still held to his ear.
“Yes, I am on my way,” he said into the receiver.
He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket as he reached the main living room.
His eyes landed on the velvet couch, where Eli was sprawled out fast asleep.
Eli’s mouth was wide open, and loud, obnoxious snoring filled the room.
Rowan stopped in his tracks, his lip curling in sheer contempt.
“Good for nothing,” he thought, disgust bitter in his chest.
“How in the world did she ever fall in love with a creature like this?” Spotting a glass of cold water sitting on the nearby coffee table, Rowan picked it up without hesitation.
He walked over, hovered over his sleeping brother, and tipped the glass directly over Eli’s face.
The cold water splashed over Eli’s mouth and nose.
Eli jolted upright instantly, sputtering and coughing violently as he tumbled off the couch, hitting the hard floor with a dull thud.
He clutched his throat, choking on the water, his eyes wild with panic.
Rowan tilted his head slightly, looking down at him with zero emotion.
“Why are you sleeping, Eli?
Have you cleaned the car?” Eli wiped the water from his face, gasping for air as he glared up from the carpet.
“Rowan!
What the hell…
that was incredibly dangerous!” “Have you cleaned the car?” Rowan repeated, his voice cold and flat.
Eli wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grumbling bitterly.
“Yes.
I have.” Rowan let out a brief sigh, unbothered by his brother’s misery.
“Good.
And don’t you dare sleep on my couch ever again.
This isn’t your house.” With that, Rowan turned and walked toward the grand front entrance.
Eli pushed himself up from the floor slowly, his wet hair sticking to his forehead.
As Rowan’s back was turned, a dark, resentful smirk crept onto Eli’s face.
He glared at his brother’s retreating figure, muttering under his breath, “Let’s see how you feel when your tire fails on the road…” Out in the courtyard, Rowan pushed open the front doors and stepped into the morning air.
He walked over to his sleek black sedan, but as he reached for the door, his sharp eyes flicked downward.
He stopped instantly.
The tire was subtly tampered with, a covert, amateurish job, but obvious to anyone trained in survival.
Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“What an absolute bastard, he couldn’t even do this properly” he growled under his breath, staring at the rubber.
“How can this man be my brother?” He turned around immediately, his voice cutting through the quiet courtyard as he addressed one of the armed guards.
“Get me another car.
And get this one fixed immediately.” “Yes, Mr.
Carven,” the guard replied, moving instantly.
Within moments, a fresh executive vehicle was brought around to the front of the courtyard.
Rowan opened the passenger door, stepped inside, and pulled the door shut with a solid thud.
A second later, the car accelerated smoothly, driving through the opening iron gates and speeding out of the estate.