Chapter 74

“Asher, I… I accidentally knocked over the wine glass. I’m terribly sorry—I’ll clean this up right away.”

Grace knelt to clean the shattered glass. Her low-cut dress exposed her décolletage as she bent, directly in Asher’s line of sight.

Asher’s expression darkened; he averted his gaze. “Get up. Leave at once,” he said impatiently.

Grace attempted to pick up the fragments with her bare hands, then cried out. Her finger was cut, bright red blood dripping onto the floor. She rose weakly, pressing her lips together, her expression pitiful. “Asher, I’ve cut myself. Could you possibly take me to the hospital?”

Asher glanced briefly at the wound. “There are plasters and antiseptic in the bathroom cabinet. Sort it out yourself.”

“Can’t you take me to the hospital? It’s frightfully painful.”

Asher’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “By the time we reached the hospital, it would have healed already.”

The following morning, when Lady Blackwood Sr. couldn’t reach Asher by phone, she called his executive assistant, Matt Ford.

“Is Asher terribly busy?” she inquired.

Matt responded respectfully, “Lady Blackwood, Mr. Blackwood has just finished a meeting.”

“Have him take my call.”

Asher looked at Matt questioningly. “Grandmother?”

Matt nodded and handed him the phone.

The old lady’s tone was gentle. “Asher, dear, your sister has fallen seriously ill and is in the hospital. I’ll send you the address and room number. Perhaps you could find time to visit her.”

“Grandmother,” Asher replied coldly, “if she’s ill, you should call a doctor. Why involve me? I’m hardly qualified to treat illnesses.”

Lady Blackwood steadied her voice, maintaining a pleasant tone. “Just this once. Regardless of everything, she is your sister. Visiting her in hospital when she’s ill isn’t crossing any boundaries, is it?”

“Asher, I was wrong about the family dinner incident, and I apologize. Yesterday, Grace became dreadfully ill. When I visited her in the hospital today, she looked absolutely wretched. It truly broke my heart. Grace is asking for you. Won’t you please visit her? Do it as a favor to your grandmother, if nothing else.”

With his grandmother swallowing her pride and offering an apology—something the typically imperious Lady Blackwood rarely did—Asher relented. After all, she was his grandmother. He agreed to visit when he had time.

At the hospital, Asher entered the ward carrying a basket of homemade chicken soup and freshly baked bread that Lady Blackwood had sent.

In the hospital room, Grace lay receiving intravenous fluids, her complexion pale. She genuinely appeared ill. Seeing Asher, Grace’s eyes lit up. “Asher, you came!”

“Indeed,” Asher replied, placing the basket on the table. “What’s the diagnosis? Is it serious?”

“It’s influenza, quite severe. I’ve had no appetite today. I tried to eat a little but was dreadfully sick afterward.”

“This is some chicken soup and bread that Grandmother had prepared,” Asher indicated the basket.

Grace glanced at the basket, then looked up at Asher. “Asher, my left hand has the IV line, and my right hand was cut by glass last night. It’s rather difficult for me. Could you possibly help me with the soup?”

Asher’s expression remained cold. “Where’s the nurse?”

“She stepped out for a moment.” She had deliberately sent the nurse away, knowing Asher was coming.

Asher nodded. “I’ll call for another nurse.”

Fearing she might irritate Asher further, Grace didn’t press him to feed her.

Shortly afterward, the nurse returned, helped Grace with the soup, and the IV bag was emptied. A nurse came to remove the needle.

Asher said, “I should be going now. Rest well.”

“Wait—” Grace quickly interjected. “Asher, I’d love some fresh air and sunshine. Could you take me outside?”

This request wasn’t unreasonable. Asher hesitated before agreeing.

“Very well, then.”

The hospital room door opened, with Grace walking in front. “Asher, I knew you still cared about me. You’re so busy with work yet you made time to visit me and even prepared this lovely soup for me. I’m truly grateful.”

Asher followed, heading out. Grace’s words were strange. He had clearly told her the soup was from his grandmother, yet she claimed he had made it.

He had just stepped out when he saw someone at the neighboring room’s doorway. Asher stopped abruptly, his pupils contracting.

“Lia?” Asher’s voice trembled.

Thalia turned, their eyes meeting. Seeing Grace in hospital attire beside Asher, Thalia’s brow furrowed.

Asher took two quick steps toward her, his tone urgent. “Darling, what on earth are you doing here?” The young woman was wearing hospital clothes, her face pale.

“You’re ill?” Asher took Thalia’s hand, his voice tender. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell, sweetheart?”

Thalia lowered her eyelashes. “You’ve been so busy lately. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

Pain flashed in Asher’s eyes. “How could you ever be a bother? You’re everything to me, Lia. Your wellbeing matters more than anything.”

Thalia gently withdrew her hand. “I’m perfectly fine. Don’t you have other matters to attend to? You should go.” She was referring to Grace’s situation. Thalia knew Grace harbored feelings for Asher, and Grace’s hostility toward her was obvious. Asher couldn’t possibly be unaware. Thalia told herself Grace was his sister; a brother visiting his sick sister was reasonable. She shouldn’t be petty or jealous. But still, she felt a twinge of resentment. The thought that Asher had made time to visit Grace and personally prepare soup for her sparked an uncontrollable emotion.

Asher placed both hands on Thalia’s shoulders. “Lia, my love, you’re ill. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here with you.”

He turned to Grace. “Since the nurse has returned, let her accompany you downstairs for some sunshine.”

Without waiting for Grace’s response, Asher took Thalia’s hand and led her into the hospital room. The door closed behind them.

“Lia, when did you fall ill, darling?” His voice was soft with concern.

“Just these past couple of days.”

“What happened, sweetheart?”

“It’s just a minor flu, nothing serious.”

Asher sat on the hospital bed, holding Thalia’s hand, his thumb gently stroking her palm. “In the future, please tell me about these things immediately, won’t you, my love?”

Thalia looked down, pressing her lips together. “I didn’t want to interfere with your work.”

Asher’s expression softened, his eyes warm. “As I’ve said, it’s not interference. You will always be my top priority, Lia.”

After a pause, his eyes filled with tender warmth. “Besides, I work so hard to earn money for my darling wife to spend. If I can’t even look after my precious girl properly, what’s the point of earning all that money?”

“Hmph.” Thalia puffed her cheeks. “We’re not married yet. How am I suddenly your wife?”

Asher’s voice was delighted as he leaned closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “You’re the only one who will ever be my wife, darling. You’ll marry me sooner or later, so what’s wrong with calling you my wife in advance?”

Remembering Grace’s words, Thalia felt a knot in her chest.

“Is that so? Then why didn’t you prepare soup for your wife?”

Asher realized the misunderstanding and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “She was talking nonsense, love. Grandmother specifically called today asking me to visit Grace. I didn’t want to go originally, but Grandmother humbled herself to apologize, saying she was wrong about the family dinner incident and asked me to do this as a favor.”

“That soup was prepared by someone at Grandmother’s request and delivered to me at the hospital entrance. I certainly didn’t make it myself, darling.”

Thalia remained silent, though her expression softened slightly.

“Are you jealous, my love?” The man’s tone was warm, his eyes sparkling. “My precious Lia is jealous for my sake.”