Just when they were completely out of options, a flashy sports car glided to a stop right in front of them.

It looked familiar – both women had seen it once at the real estate agency.

The moment Ivy caught sight of it, she frowned, instantly recognizing whose car it was.

She glanced at the driver, only to lock eyes with a pair of icy, indifferent stares.

But the man behind the wheel pretended not to notice them. Ivy, equally proud, rolled her eyes and turned away.

Suddenly, Katrina gasped. “Wait! Isn’t that Dr. Ludwig’s car? Ivy, why don’t you ask Dr. Ludwig for help?”

“No need.” Ivy’s voice was cold and flat.

Just then, the traffic started to loosen up, and that five-million-dollar Koenigsegg inched forward.

Katrina darted ahead and rapped on the window. “Dr. Ludwig!”

The car stopped again, window lowering to reveal Jamison’s sharp, austere face.

“What do you want?”

Katrina bent down, putting on her most polite smile. “Dr. Ludwig, would you mind giving Ivy a ride? We haven’t been able to get a cab, and she’s hurt – she’s really not feeling well.”

Jamison knew Ivy could be difficult, and didn’t hesitate to refuse. “It’s a two-seater. There isn’t room for both of you.”

“You don’t need to take me, just Ivy!” Katrina’s smile grew even more ingratiating. “I don’t mind waiting a little longer, but Ivy’s in no shape to be standing out here. Please, Dr. Ludwig, could you?”

Ivy was furious, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Katrina, what are you doing? A cab will be here any minute.”

Jamison said nothing, but his expression suggested reluctant agreement.

“That’s fantastic! Thank you, Dr. Ludwig!” Katrina beamed, immediately pulling open the passenger door and calling back, “Ivy, get in the car!”

“I’m fine!” Ivy snapped, bristling at her friend’s fawning attitude. She was even more annoyed now.

But as she raised her voice, a wave of dizziness washed over her and she staggered.

A car behind them blared its horn impatiently. Jamison’s tone sharpened. “Are you getting in or not?”

“She is!” Katrina ignored Ivy’s protests, practically shoving her into the passenger seat. She looked at her pleadingly. “Please, Ivy, don’t make me worry. I’m begging you.”

Before Ivy could object, Katrina slammed the door shut and waved for them to go.

Jamison started the engine, his face unreadable. “You really ought to be under observation in the hospital for a couple of days.”

Ivy shot back, “What, do you own shares in the place? Trying to meet your quotas?”

Jamison let out a cold snort, grinding his teeth. Why did he even bother?

He cut off any further conversation, his voice frostier than ever. “Buckle your seatbelt.”

Ivy turned and yanked the belt across her lap, her words clipped. “I’ll pay you for the ride.”

Jamison’s lips curled into a sardonic smile. He was half amused, half exasperated.

If it weren’t pouring rain outside, if her forehead wasn’t still bleeding, and if he weren’t a doctor – he’d have kicked her out of the car without a second thought.

Traffic crawled, stop-and-go all the way.

Jamison clearly didn’t want to talk, but finally broke the silence. “Where to? The Windsor estate or Golden Maple Court?”

Golden Maple Court – the duplex Ivy had bought from Jamison himself.

Neither the Windsor family nor Micah knew about it. Jamison was the only one privy to that information.

And he wasn’t one to gossip or meddle, so he’d never said a word to anyone.

Ivy answered in a calm, even tone. “Golden Maple Court. Thank you.”

Jamison didn’t even glance over. His profile was all hard edges and cool detachment, his words edged with sarcasm. “You live alone. Aren’t you afraid you’ll pass out and no one will find you?”