Chapter 11
1038 Words
Lana's POV
I skipped down the hallway like a kid who'd just been given ice cream, the biggest grin plastered across my face.
Probation? I scoffed.
That sounded more like a promotion to me.
I still had my job—for the meantime. My salary was safe, and my dad's treatment wouldn't stop. Well, at least for now.
Somewhere in his room right now, Kylian was probably regretting every life decision that had led him to making such an offer.
I was probably the world's first happiest probationary nurse...
...and the last one to ever exist.
Now I only had two problems on my hands.
Successfully examine Kylian.
And somehow beat Uncle Tristan's intelligence without getting myself into even bigger trouble.
My first official check-up with Kylian was scheduled for 6 p.m., and I was more than ready to examine him.
I was curious.
What exactly was that grumpy man hiding?
Was he already getting better...
...or was he simply terrified of the possibility of getting better? And why.
Living in the Rhys mansion for less than two days had already taught me a whole lot.
Nothing here was normal.
Ms. Paltz walked around like she owned the entire country.
The housekeepers barely smiled or exchanged words. They only looked at me with sad eyes, as though I'd unknowingly walked into a deadly trap.
Finn behaved like a paid troublemaker, calling me his pumpkin and offering words of encouragement here and there.
Uncle Tristan was hardly ever around.
And Kylian?
That man deserved his own warning label because, boy, was he trouble.
So, if I wanted to survive being his private nurse—or simply survive living in this mansion—I couldn't afford to be normal either.
Normal was boring anyway.
All morning, I had only one task in mind.
Go through Kylian's file over and over again.
I spent the entire day memorizing his likes and dislikes, his routine, the things that once made him happy when he could still walk, the people he spent time with, and everything else I could find.
What I discovered was... quite interesting.
He had a lot of dislikes that didn't quite make sense to me, I mean who hates being called ‘boss’, and surprisingly enough…This man had a fiancée?
Nerisse white…her name sounded familiar and quite exquisite.
She is one of New York's top models and fashion designers, and has been engaged to Kylian for six months now before proposing marriage.
After the tragic accident that had temporarily crippled Kylian, she had left the states for good three months.
Her excuse?
She was traumatized and needed time alone.
Away from her own fiancé?
Weird.
Maybe that was why Kylian was always so grumpy.
They had been scheduled to get married the very same month the accident happened, but the wedding had been postponed until he recovered fully.
The lady worked abroad full-time and only visited Kylian once in a blue moon.
One particular note in his file attached to her info caught my attention.
Never speak about Lady Nerisse to Mr. Kylian. EVER.
The word ever had been written in capital letters.
Well...
That was never on my to-do list anyway.
I was perfectly fine minding my own business.
I didn't realize my alarm had been blinking for a while until I glanced at it.
My eyes widened.
It was already six o'clock.
Time for the examination.
Straightening the hem of my uniform, I grabbed my medical kit and headed upstairs toward Kylian's room.
Taking a few deep breaths, I knocked twice.
"Come in," he said calmly from inside.
Turning the handle, I walked in confidently with my equipment in hand.
"Good evening, Mr. Kylian," I greeted with a polite smile.
Trust Kylian to grumble about absolutely everything.
"Just get to work, Lana," he groaned.
He was fully dressed now in black suit pants and a crisp white shirt, sitting rigidly in his wheelchair.
I breathed out, placed my equipment on the side table, and took out my stethoscope.
As I gently began examining his legs, I asked my routine questions.
"Which leg hurts the most?"
"Which one feels numb?"
"And what do you feel when I move your legs like this?"
Kylian completely ignored me.
"I need to know how you're feeling, Mr. Kylian. Please cooperate. Thank you."
He let out a small laugh.
"Lana... do you know how many people would kill to be in your position right now?"
I frowned.
"Yet you keep making things difficult. It's simple."
He leaned back.
"Make sure something is wrong, and we're good to go. You don't need to ask all these questions."
I straightened, looking at him in frustration.
"This is part of my job, Mr. Kylian. I have to perform proper examinations and confirm everything myself."
He sighed dramatically.
"Fine."
"My right leg hurts."
"My left leg feels like it's about to erupt."
"And I'm numb everywhere."
I nodded and continued the examination.
But the longer I examined him...
...the more confused I became.
There didn't seem to be anything seriously wrong with his legs.
Or was I mistaken?
They looked perfectly healthy...
Except they also appeared slightly strained.
But I couldn't tell Kylian that.
And I definitely couldn't tell Uncle Tristan that either.
I had to figure out a way out of this mess.
Just as I was about to straighten up, Uncle Tristan's voice came from outside the door.
"Kylian, may I come in?"
My heart almost stopped.
Kylian slowly looked at me before a devilish smile spread across his face.
"Come in, Uncle," he called out smoothly.
"I've been expecting you."
No.
No, no, no.
This was bad.
I still hadn't figured out what was actually wrong with Kylian's legs, and Uncle Tristan showing up now was the worst possible timing.
The door swung open, and Tristan walked in with that same commanding aura and effortless confidence.
He was undeniably the older, cooler version of Kylian.
The same striking features.
The same long strides.
The same ridiculously handsome face.
What was I even thinking—
"Lana."
His deep, hoarse voice pulled me back to reality.
"You're here too."
I forced a weak smile, I could hear my heart sink into my stomach in agony.
- Writer
