CHAPTER 8

Almost Suicidal...

Jesse's POV

"That useless bastard. A bastard that doesn't even have the courage to die, and now he's doing drugs?!" Mr. King’s voice thundered through the large, dark-paneled study.

I stood rigid, my hands clenched behind my back. My heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my expression unreadable.

He deserved to know. Nathaniel could’ve died. I couldn’t just pretend nothing happened. Even if it cost me my job, I wasn’t going to be the guy who stood by and watched someone spiral into death. He might not see me as a friend—hell, he probably thought of me as a nuisance—but I owed him this. He gave me a shot when no one else would, and I wasn't going to let him drown in silence.

I swallowed. “Sir, Miss Elizabeth called me. She said he’s stable now… the worst is over. But I felt you had to know.”

Mr. King slowly turned to face me. His eyes, cold and cutting like broken glass, narrowed.

"...like there's nothing else to imitate,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Doing something his mother did.”

My breath caught. I didn’t dare speak. I'd heard whispers about Miranda—rumors that her death wasn’t just an accident. But hearing him connect her actions to Nathaniel’s sent a chill down my spine.

“I’ve already handled the hospital,” I said calmly, trying to steady the tremor in my voice. “They’ve been paid handsomely to stay quiet.”

Mr. King said nothing, but the tic in his jaw told me what I needed to know—he was pleased, in his own, twisted way.

Image. That was all that mattered to him. Not his son’s pain. Not the fact that the boy almost took his own life. No. Just the family name, the reputation, the pristine illusion of power.

“And the media?” he asked sharply, turning back to the window.

“We put out a statement that he was overworked from his duties managing the overseas resort business. If any gossip sites picked up on it being a suicide attempt, the story didn’t gain traction. Thanks to Miss Elizabeth, the situation was buried quickly.”

He was silent for a moment.

“As the only son I have…” His voice broke, if only slightly. “He’s nothing but trouble.”

A heavy silence stretched between us. Then, he sighed. “So... all he needs is a good rest, right?”

“Yes, sir,” I nodded.

He looked at me, and for a moment I saw something human flicker behind his eyes. “Good job.”

I took a quiet breath. That meant I was safe—for now.

---

Elizabeth's POV

The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, but it couldn’t mask the quiet dread in the hospital room. I sat at Nathaniel’s bedside, watching his pale face rise and fall with every breath. The bruises under his eyes looked darker against the pale of his skin. He looked so peaceful. So unlike the arrogant, sharp-tongued Nathaniel I knew.

How did it come to this?

Why would he think of ending it all?

A small part of me wanted to shake him awake, to scream at him for being so damn selfish. But instead, I just sat there, holding onto a silence that felt heavier than words could carry.

“Dear.”

I looked up. His mother stood at the door, dressed immaculately in a soft cream shawl, her face a calm mask that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She stepped into the room and sat beside me. “Don’t worry, dear. The worst is over now.”

I didn’t answer. My eyes remained fixed on Nathaniel.

She glanced at me, then gently asked, “Were you very shocked?”

“No,” I replied quietly. “I’m angry.”

She paused, then nodded, as if she understood more than she let on.

“When you’re sad, cry. When you’re happy, laugh. Is it that hard?” she said softly. “You and Nathaniel… you’re a lot alike, you know?”

I turned to look at her. There was something in her voice—something deeper than motherly concern.

“Miranda… do you know how she died?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

I swallowed. I remembered Miranda, the original Mrs. King. She’d been the picture of grace. The rumors surrounding her death had always felt like a dark cloud no one dared touch.

“They said it was an accident,” she continued. “But it was really…”

She trailed off, leaving the rest hanging like a ghost in the room.

“Think about how Nathaniel must have felt back then,” she added, watching me.

I turned back to Nathaniel. “Bastard… to die in front of me… is that why he came to me?” I whispered bitterly.

She reached over, brushing her fingers along my wrist. “Lizzy dear… in front of the man you want to get, it’s useless to be uppity. Getting a man’s heart… is easy.”

What?

I looked at her, confused. Was she seriously advising me on seduction now?

“Fill the hole when there is one,” she continued smoothly. “Roses—they tear off all the thorns before selling them.”

Could she read me that easily?

“You might have been like that, madam, but I won’t stoop that low,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

Her face froze for a second, but she recovered quickly.

She must’ve wormed her way into Mr. King’s heart after Miranda died. Manipulative women like her knew how to play their role.

But I wasn’t going to be like her.

I might love Nathaniel, but I wasn’t going to force my way into his life. Not like she did. I’d wait. Wait until he was ready to come to me on his own.

I stood up and glared at her one final time before walking out. I couldn't stomach being near her any longer.

---

Nathaniel’s POV

Darkness. Pain. My chest felt like it was burning, like my ribs were caving in on themselves. And then… I saw her.

“Mother… mother…” I whispered. She was there. But… she wasn’t walking toward me. She was walking away.

Leaving me.

“Mother!”

“Nathaniel? Are you okay?”

A soft voice filtered into the dark. Familiar. Familiar enough to snap me out of the haze.

“Nathaniel?!” It came again, louder this time.

I opened my eyes slowly. The room was too white. Too bright.

This wasn’t my room.

I blinked.

Why the hell was she here?

Elizabeth.

She moved closer, her face a mix of concern and disbelief. “Oh my gosh… you’re okay?”

I frowned. My body felt heavy. Weak. Pathetic.

She sat beside me, touching my cheek with trembling fingers. Her warmth irritated me.

“That’s right, it’s me. Are you coming to your senses?” she said with a smile.

“Please… just get out,” I muttered, barely able to raise my voice.

Her smile fell for a moment, replaced by a flicker of pain.

“I’ll call your father and be right back,” she said, forcing a small smile again before leaving.

I groaned.

What the hell had I done?

A sharp pain ripped through my chest. I clutched it. Regret tasted bitter on my tongue.

The phone buzzed by the bed. I answered without checking the screen.

“It was that woman, right?” Jesse’s voice came through.

My head throbbed. My thoughts slowly clicked into place.

Yes. That damned substitute driver.

The betrayal.

The mess.

I couldn’t just sit here.

I yanked the IV out, wincing as the needle tore out of my skin. Blood followed. I swung my legs over the bed.

“Nate?” Elizabeth was back, eyes wide with shock. “Nathaniel, stop! You haven’t recovered yet!”

“Don’t mind me!” I snapped, trying to push past her.

She shoved me back onto the bed with surprising strength.

“Then make it so I don’t mind you!” she shouted.

“What the hell is your problem?” I barked. “Don’t come in here getting all emotional because of her!”

“Mind your own business!”

I pushed her harder, and she stumbled back. But she didn’t stay down.

She came at me again, grabbing my shoulders. Her eyes blazed with fury. Her hands shook. And then—slap.

The sting bloomed across my cheek like fire.

“You can’t come to your senses?! After everything I did to save you, you’re just going to collapse again?!”

She was crying—but she refused to let the tears fall. Her voice trembled with anger and pain.

For a moment, I just stared at her. Then I let out a dry, bitter chuckle.

She flinched.

“I’ve come to my senses,” I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips.

“Thank you, Elizabeth. For saving me.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

“But I’ve got something to do.”

Slowly, painfully, I stood up and began unbuttoning the hospital gown. She turned around immediately, her face flushed.

I found my clothes on the nearby table. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through my body, but I pushed through it.

After dressing, I looked back at her. She was still facing the wall.

I took one last look—just one—before walking out.

There was business to handle.

And this time… I wasn’t going to let it destroy me.