June
Where… am I? Everything’s blurry.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Wait—is that a heart rate monitor?
Oh s**t. My eyes snap open, and I bolt upright, I glance to my left.
Am I… in a hospital?
This doesn’t look like a hospital. It looks like one of those rich-people rooms in magazines. The walls are cream-colored, the bed is adjustable with gold railings, and there’s a bouquet of flowers that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe.
Okay—this is a ward room. Just… the luxury kind. The one they use in private hospital ads to lure billionaires.
Oh I see him. Mr. Grande.
He's sitting there like a damn statue—reading a book like his intern didn’t just faint and get rushed to the hospital.
He is so annoyingly calm. Surely, he does hates me.
And here I was—delusional enough to imagine he p
