Diane’s POV
The tension was thick the mont I walked into Joan’s office. Mr. Holbrook sat composed, Joan beside him, both waiting with an air of Neutrality. And then there was Liam – strolling in with that infuriating nonchalance that made my blood boil.
I sat down, gripping the edge of the chair to steady myself. The ankle bracelet and lingerie I’d found in the bedroom felt like a weapon tucked away in my purse, a secret waiting to be unleashed.
Holbrook began the eting with a seemingly casual question. "Mrs. Ashton, did you receive the access code for the mansion I sent to you through Joan?"
"Yes," I replied, shooting Liam a dreadful glare that turned into a devilish smirk.
Liam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and I savored the small victory.
"Excellent," Holbrook continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling between Liam and . "Now, regarding the division of assets, Mr. Ashton is prepared to increase your company shares to 15%, along with the property at Willow Creek Estate."
I couldn’t help but laugh – a sharp, bitter laugh that cut through the professional facade. "Fifteen percent? I’ve been a key contributor to this company’s growth. I single-handedly developed strategies that increased our market value. Fifteen percent is an insult."
Joan leaned forward. "That’s not acceptable, Richard. Diane already holds 10% of the company shares in her own right. It’s only fair to add another 10%, bringing her total to 20%."
Liam blue eyes hardening. An insult? His eyes narrowed. "You should be grateful for what you’re getting. Fifteen percent, Adding 5% to your already 10% is more than generous considering—"
"Considering what?" I challenged, feeling my temper flare. "Considering I helped build that company from the ground up? Considering I put my own career on hold to support you? Or perhaps considering you’ve been trying to cut off from our joint account for months?"
Holbrook intervened smoothly. "Let’s stay focused on the matter at hand. Mr. Ashton is offering 15% of the company shares and full ownership of the Willow Creek property, nothing more, nothing less. Additionally, you’ve already been granted imdiate access to both the property and the company just like you insisted."
"Imdiate access?" I laughed bitterly. "Is that why the security didn’t stop yesterday? Or why Joan inford that I need to give 24-hour notice before entering the company building?"
Liam’s jaw tightened. "That’s standard protocol for non-executive personnel." And besides what did you go to do at the house yesterday?
"Non-executive?" I leaned forward, rage bubbling up inside . "I helped you build that company, Liam. I worked hours alongside you. I entertained clients, organized events, sacrificed my own career to support yours. And now you’re treating like so random visitor?"
"The past is irrelevant," Liam replied coldly. "The fact is, you’re no longer involved in day-to-day operations. The 24-hour notice stands."
I want the money in our joint accounts split equally, or I swear to God, Liam, I will let hell loose on you."
Liam slamd his fist on the table, his mask of calm slipping. "You’re not getting another penny! You ungrateful, vindictive bitch!"
Joan stood up imdiately. "That’s enough, Liam. We can conduct this eting civilly, or we can let the court decide. Your choice."
But Liam was beyond reasoning. He pointed a finger at , his face twisted in anger. "You think you can threaten ? After everything I’ve done for you? You were nothing before , Diane. NOTHING!"
"You did nothing for except lie and cheat!" I spat, my voice rising with each word. "With my own sister, in our bed!"
Sothing inside snapped. The pain, betrayal, being systematically erased from my own life – it all ca rushing to the surface. I stood up, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"Diane," Joan cautioned, but I was beyond hearing.
"You think you can just discard ?" My voice trembled with rage. "You think you can destroy my life and walk away?"
Liam stood too, towering over . "You’re hysterical," he spat. "This is exactly why I—"
Before he could finish, my hand flew up. I was monts away from slapping him, years of hurt condensing into that single mont of potential violence.
But Liam was faster. He caught my wrist mid-air, his grip tight enough to hurt. "You think I’d let you slap again?" he hissed, his face inches from mine. "You dare not. You’re never getting a di from , Diane. Not one cent."
"Watch your back, Liam," I said, my voice low and trembling with rage. "I’m coming all out on you."
The shock in the room was absolute. Joan and Holbrook sat stunned, witnesses to a mont that felt like the climax of sothing far bigger than a divorce negotiation.
Without another word, I grabbed my purse and stord out of the conference room. I could hear Joan calling after , but I couldn’t stop. Hot tears blurred my vision as I jabbed at the elevator button repeatedly, desperate to escape.
The doors slid open, and I practically fell inside, pressing the button for the lobby. Only when the doors closed did I allow myself to break down, sobbing uncontrollably as the elevator descended. My hands shook as I tried to compose myself, wiping furiously at my tears.
"Breathe," I whispered to myself. "Just breathe."
The elevator dinged, and I hurriedly wiped my eyes, trying to look composed before the doors opened. The lobby was busy with afternoon traffic, people coming and going, oblivious to my personal hell. I kept my head down as I rushed toward the exit, fumbling in my purse for my car keys.
Pushing through the glass doors, I stepped onto the sidewalk, still blinded by tears and emotion. I didn’t see the sleek black car until it was too late. The screech of brakes, the horrified shouts of pedestrians, and then—impact.
Pain exploded through my side as I was thrown to the ground. My head struck the pavent with a sickening crack, and warm wetness trickled down my temple.
Darkness claid , punctuated by snatches of frantic voices and the wail of approaching sirens.
"Oh my God! Soone call an ambulance!"
"Ma’am? Can you hear ?"
"Don’t move her! She could have spinal injuries."
And then, closer, a deep, concerned voice: "I’m so sorry. I didn’t see her. She ca out of nowhere..."
I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of being carefully lifted, of the gentle pressure of unfamiliar hands supporting my head and neck. The scent of expensive cologne mingled with the tallic tang of blood.
"She’s losing a lot of blood. Get the gurney!"
dical personnel sward around us imdiately. I was placed on a gurney and taken away, the fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor harsh against my eyes. A nurse cut away my bloodied blouse, another attached monitors to my chest. The rapid, rhythmic beeping of my heart filled the room.
"BP is dropping. We need to stabilize her now."
"Get a CT scan, stat!"
"Soone call Dr. Chen. This is her patient."
Through the chaos, I caught sight of the man who had brought in. He stood in the doorway, his expression grave as he watched the dical team work. A nurse tried to usher him away, but he refused to move.
"I’m responsible for her," he insisted. "I need to know she’s alright."
The next few hours passed in a haze of tests, examinations, and the blessed relief of pain dication. Dr. Chen arrived, her familiar face a comfort amidst the turmoil. She spoke soothingly as she examined , her hands gentle but thorough.
"Diane, you’ve got a concussion and so bruising, but the good news is, there’s no internal bleeding. You were very lucky."
Relief flooded through , tears spilling down my cheeks. "Thank God," I whispered.
Dr. Chen smiled, patting my hand. "You were very lucky. If you hadn’t gotten here so quickly..." She trailed off, then added, "The gentleman who brought you in has been waiting. He’s quite concerned. He’s already taken care of all your dical expenses."
I frowned, trying to make sense of this information through the fog of pain and dication. "He has?"
Dr. Chen nodded. "I’ve never seen soone so insistent on helping a stranger. He’s been pacing the waiting room for hours. Would you like to see him? Just briefly—you need rest."
I hesitated, then nodded. Whoever this man was, I owed him my gratitude. Dr. Chen left to fetch him, returning monts later with the silver-haired man in tow.
Up close, I could see the exhaustion and worry etched on his distinguished features. He approached my bedside cautiously, as if afraid I might break.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his deep voice gentle.
"I’ve been better," I managed a weak smile. "Thank you for bringing here... and for paying the bills. You didn’t have to do that."
He waved away my thanks. "It was the least I could do. I’m Andrew, by the way."
"Diane Ashton," I replied.
A strange expression flickered across Andrew’s face, quickly masked. "It’s a pleasure to et you, Diane, though I wish it were under better circumstances."
Before I could respond, a nurse entered the room. "Excuse , Mrs. Ashton. I have the results of your preliminary tests." She glanced at Andrew, then back at . "Everything looks good. You’re stable, and your babies are fine."
I froze, suddenly aware that my pregnancy was no longer a secret. Andrew’s eyes widened slightly at the confirmation, but he gave no other indication of surprise.
The nurse continued, oblivious to my discomfort. "Dr. Chen wants to keep you overnight for observation, just to be safe. Is there anyone we should call for you?"
"Joan," I replied. "She’s my ergency contact. Dr. Chen knows her."
The nurse nodded and left, leaving alone with Andrew once more. An awkward silence fell between us.
"Can I get you anything?" he finally asked. "Water? Sothing to eat?"
Before I could answer, the door burst open, and Joan rushed in, her face pale with worry. She barely spared Andrew a glance as she hurried to my side.
"Diane! Oh my God, are you okay? What happened?" Her eyes took in the bandage on my head, the monitors tracking my vitals.
"Diane... are you...?"
I nodded, tears welling in my eyes. "I’m sorry for storming off like that, I just couldn’t stand that son of a bitch anymore."
Joan sank into the chair beside my bed, montarily speechless. Then her eyes hardened as she turned to Andrew. "And who are you? What happened out there?"
Andrew straightened, eting her gaze unflinchingly. "I’m the driver of the car that hit her, I’m afraid. It was an accident—she stepped into the street suddenly, and I couldn’t stop in ti."
Joan’s expression darkened. "So you just happened to hit my friend, and now you’re what, hanging around to make sure she doesn’t press charges?"
"Joan!" I protested, but Andrew held up a hand.
"Your concern is understandable, Ms. Joan. But I assure you, I’m only here because I feel responsible for Mrs. Ashton’s wellbeing. I’ve taken care of her dical expenses and offered any assistance she might need during her recovery."
Joan crossed her arms, still skeptical. "And how do you know my na?"
"Diane ntioned to the Doctor you are her ergency contact," Andrew replied calmly. "Dr. Chen speaks highly of you."
Joan’s posture relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained wary. "Well, I’m here now. Diane won’t need any further assistance from you."
Andrew nodded, accepting her dismissal with grace. He turned to , his expression softening. "I’ll leave you in your friend’s capable hands, Ms. Ashton. But please, take this." He handed a business card with an elegant embossed logo. "If you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to call. Day or night."
I took the card, strangely moved by his sincerity. "Thank you, Mr. Andrew. For everything."
He smiled, and for a mont, those gray eyes seed to hold a wealth of emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. Then he bowed slightly and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Joan imdiately turned to , a thousand questions in her eyes.
I sighed, suddenly exhausted. The events of the day crashed over like a wave—the confrontation with Liam, the accident, It was all too much.
"I’ll tell you everything," I promised. "But first... how did Liam react when I left?"
Joan’s expression darkened. "He was furious. Started ranting about how ungrateful you are, how you’d regret threatening him. Holbrook had to practically drag him out of the office."
I closed my eyes, a chill running through . "He’s going to fight dirty, Joan."
"He won’t," Joan said firmly, squeezing my hand. Right now, you need to focus on getting better and taking care of yourself.
Despite everything, I smiled. "I know.
Joan’s eyes welled with tears. "I’m so proud of how strong you’ve been through all of this."
I gripped her hand tightly, drawing strength from her unwavering support. "I couldn’t have done it without you."
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