Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 145

Emmy spun around and found Dean standing there in his hospital gown, a bandage slapped across his annoyingly handsome face.

She didn’t waste a second. “Stop him,” she told her bodyguards.

The two men stepped up, solid as stone, blocking Dean from getting anywhere near her.

Dean’s brows pulled together, his voice tight with anger and disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mr. Sparrow, please have some self-respect.” Emmy’s tone was frosty, her distance unmistakable. “Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong idea.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “So you’re actually worried about her?”

He paused, his voice softening as if he was being considerate. “Relax. The hospital reeks and she’s got work to do. I told her to go home. But you—don’t you think you should be here taking care of me?”

Emmy actually laughed.

She couldn’t help but remember—another lifetime, another hospital room. She’d said the same thing then, complaining about the hospital smell, overwhelmed with a mountain of urgent work.

And Dean? He’d just looked at her and said, “What’s more important, me or your job? If you don’t stay and take care of me, I’ll be heartbroken.”

So, of course, she’d dropped everything, stayed by his side, barely sleeping or eating.

Now she realized—he always knew how to be thoughtful when he wanted. He just couldn’t stand to let the woman he loved suffer, not even for a minute.

Emmy looked at him, her voice ice-cold. “And why would I do that?”

Dean jabbed at the bandage on his face. “Because of this! Look! Have you ever seen me with a mark on my face before? This is all your fault! You have to stay and take care of me today. No excuses.”

He reached for her wrist, but the bodyguards blocked him before he got close.

Right then the elevator chimed.

The doors slid open a crack and Emmy darted inside.

She didn’t expect the elevator to be packed. Unable to stop, she crashed straight into a solid chest.

“Sorry!” She blurted out, automatically looking up—then froze.

The face was so familiar, but now he wore gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes behind them deep and unreadable, like the ocean.

Jamie.

Flustered, Emmy ducked her head and bowed, even lower this time. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Nelson.”

She fidgeted, struggling for words. “Do you mind if I… squeeze in?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at her.

But the cold energy rolling off him was enough to compete with the elevator’s AC.

Taking his silence as permission, Emmy shrank into herself and stayed put.

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