Chapter 91: Satisfied

The rain materialized from Derek’s silent wish, intensifying with each passing moment. Thunderclouds gathered, promising a storm. Derek raced through the heavy downpour, his clothes quickly soaked. Water cascaded down his skin by the time he reached his car, each droplet a testament to nature's sudden fury. He instructed the driver to activate the air conditioning and settled into the cool vehicle. As midnight approached, an unsettling feeling crept over him.

He retrieved a thermometer; its digital display revealed a temperature of 101.3 degrees Fahrenheit. Rising from his bed, Derek gathered his fever and cold medications, then deliberately tossed them into the toilet and flushed them away. A satisfied smile played on his lips.

The next morning dawned pale and subdued. The previous night's deluge had transformed the landscape, leaving behind the earthy fragrance of wet grass and damp soil.

Vivienne dressed carefully, preparing for her day. Opening her bedroom door, she encountered Vanessa in the hallway.

"Good morning, Miss Vivienne," Vanessa greeted warmly, though with underlying concern. Her hands cradled a steaming tray of soup, immediately catching Vivienne's attention. Noticing Vivienne's gaze, Vanessa explained, her voice revealing worry, "Mr. Hopkins was perfectly fine yesterday, but who would have imagined he'd develop a fever overnight? I suspect the rain might be responsible. Since I couldn't find the fever medicine, I prepared this soup to strengthen him."

A flicker of anxiety crossed Vivienne's eyes. "Have you called a doctor?"

Vanessa sighed. "The doctor already visited, but Mr. Hopkins has never liked medicine. I was left with little choice."

"Let me handle this," Vivienne offered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Vanessa's knowing glance spoke volumes. A brief, understanding smile touched her eyes. "Thank you, Miss Vivienne."

Vivienne accepted the tray, her fingers carefully around its edges. She watched Vanessa retreat before turning toward Derek's room.

She knocked gently. A low, hoarse voice responded, "Come in."

Pushing open the door, Vivienne found Derek not resting, but engrossed in a document. Gone was his typical black shirt; he wore a deep blue pajama set that subtly outlined his physique. The neckline hinted at the elegant line of his collarbone, while rolled-up sleeves revealed the muscular strength of his forearms.

"Just leave it there and go," Derek's initial words were coldly indifferent.

When she didn't move, he looked up. His dark eyes—intense and piercing—seemed to cut through Vivienne, momentarily stealing her breath. The tray trembled in her grasp; her feet felt unsteady.

Yet, upon recognizing her, Derek's demeanor changed. The icy exterior melted, replaced by a gentle smile. "Why are you up so early?" he asked, closing the document and beckoning her closer.

Vivienne approached deliberately. "Vanessa mentioned you have a fever," she explained, placing the tray on the bedside table. Her hand instinctively reached to check his temperature, her brow furrowing with concern.

"I'm fine," Derek murmured, intercepting her hand. His fingers traced the delicate bones of her wrist, sending a subtle warmth through her cool skin.

Her concern deepened, noting the unusual flush on his face. "You need medicine," she insisted, preparing to retrieve the medical kit.