Chloe Bishop had no idea she had just returned from the brink of death. She truly believed it was just an unusually aggressive flu, but as the hours passed, the sheer weight of her physical exhaustion made her realize that the situation was far more dire than she had initially imagined.
After the doctor left the suite, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet room sounded like a gavel. Xavier Grayson turned back toward her, his face a mask of cold indifference. "Lie down," he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, flat baritone.
Chloe stared at him, her mind a blur of confusion. It wasn't until he picked up the small tube of medicinal ointment from the nightstand that the blood rushed to her face, turning her pale skin a deep, humiliated crimson. "I... I can do that myself," she sta
