“My cousin told me to come,” Abriella grumbled, sounding annoyed. “He had something urgent come up and asked me to look after you. I’m already on my way to your apartment. Do you need me to bring anything?”
A gentle warmth bloomed in Emmy’s chest. She told her best friend to grab some toiletries for her, then hesitated and added, “And could you bring my essay from my desk?”
Luckily, Emmy had a VIP private room. It was big, with an extra bed for visitors, so Abriella would have a place to crash when she got there.
The next morning, the TV in the hospital room was playing the news.
Suddenly, a breaking headline popped up. “Nelson Corporation’s internal network breached by unknown hackers—core data nearly stolen, with estimated losses in the billions.”
Abriella was munching on an apple and let out a low whistle.
“Anyone who can hack into Nelson Corporation’s firewall must be pretty impressive. But for Nelson, honestly, it’s probably nothing. Barely a scratch.”
Emmy glanced at her, curious. “You seem to know a lot about Nelson Corporation.”
“Of course—wait, no, not really!” Abriella caught herself and quickly changed her tone. “I just hear my dad mention them at dinner sometimes. They’re one of those huge companies.”
Just as she finished, someone knocked on the door.
James walked in carrying a thermal food container.
Abriella, who’d been sprawled out on the guest bed playing with her phone, jolted upright, sitting at attention.
“C-cousin,” she stammered.
James didn’t even look at her. He went straight to Emmy’s bedside. “Feeling any better?” His voice was low and smooth, almost electric. “I checked with the doctor. You’re allowed to have some soup.”
Emmy nodded. “I’m feeling much better. Thank you.”
James leaned in, setting up the little table over her bed.
He was in a simple black T-shirt, and when he bent down, the muscles in his arm stood out beneath the thin fabric, drawing a smooth line.
Emmy caught herself staring for a second.
He opened the food container, and a rich, comforting aroma filled the air.
It was a silky yam-and-herb soup, cooked just right.
Emmy recognized the scent—it was from that high-end private restaurant downtown, the one that only took VIPs. She’d been there with her mom once, and a single bowl of soup cost a fortune.
“Where did you get this soup?” She couldn’t help asking.
“I do, but no one I’m that close with.”
James sighed, sounding a little resigned. “Well, I guess I’ll have to take time off and reluctantly stay to look after you.”
Emmy blinked in surprise, quickly shaking her head.
“No, that’s not necessary. I can handle things myself.”
James raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest, his broad frame making the room seem smaller.
“Emmy, did you forget? We’re married now. I’m your husband.”
Emmy was about to say, “It’s just a marriage contract,” but before she could get the words out, his phone rang.
He answered, sounding impatient. “I’m busy. I’m at the hospital, taking care of my wife.”
He hung up right away.
He said “wife” so naturally that Emmy’s ears turned bright red, the heat spreading all the way up to her cheeks.

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