The Billionaire Secret

Chapter 3

As the hospital doors swung open, Sarah followed closely behind the gurney carrying Andrew. The hallways were a blur of white walls and sterile lights, but all Sarah could focus on was Andrew’s pale face, motionless as the nurses and doctors hurried him into the emergency room.

Her usual stoic demeanor cracked as she tried to keep pace, her heels clicking sharply on the polished floor. She barely noticed the tears that began to spill over her lashes, streaking down her cheeks. Her mind replayed the scene on the road—the gun, the fight, Andrew collapsing—and the reality of the situation hit her like a tidal wave. The man who had risked his life to protect her was now lying unconscious, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

The doctors stopped her at the door, instructing her to wait outside while they worked. She stood there, frozen, her fists clenched at her sides. As the doors closed, cutting her off from the chaos inside, Sarah felt a surge of helplessness that was foreign to her. She had always been in control, always the one giving orders. But now, all she could do was wait and hope.

Hours later, in a quiet hospital room, Andrew slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the harsh fluorescent light. His head throbbed, and disorientation clouded his thoughts. The sterile smell, the soft beeping of monitors—everything felt foreign. As he lay there, fragments of the incident replayed in his mind, vivid and unsettling.

He moved slightly, wincing at the pain in his head. A nurse, noticing his movement, quickly approached with a gentle smile. "Welcome back, Mr. Andrew. How are you feeling?"

Andrew groaned softly. "Like I got hit by a truck. What happened?"

"You were brought in after an altercation," the nurse explained, adjusting his pillows. "You've been unconscious for a few hours, but you're going to be okay."

As Andrew’s mind cleared, the memory of the fight on the road rushed back. "Sarah… is she alright?"

The nurse’s smile grew softer, almost affectionate. "Miss Brown? She was very worried about you. She was here the entire time, hardly left your side."

Andrew raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really? She doesn’t exactly strike me as the sentimental type."

The nurse chuckled lightly. "You’d be surprised. She was in tears when they brought you in. But don't let her know I told you that. She’s been putting on a brave face since."

Andrew’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly masked his reaction. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Just then, the door to his room swung open, and Sarah walked in, her usual composed expression firmly in place. There was no trace of the tears the nurse had mentioned; instead, her eyes were sharp, and her posture was as rigid as ever.

"Nice to see you’re finally awake," she said, her tone clipped and businesslike. "I was starting to wonder if you were planning to sleep all day."

Andrew almost smiled, sensing the facade she was putting on. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Brown," he replied, matching her tone with a hint of sarcasm. "Next time I’ll try to get knocked out at a more convenient time."

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something softer behind them, quickly hidden. "You’re lucky to be alive, Andrew. But don’t let it go to your head. You still have a job to do, and I expect you to be back on your feet as soon as possible."

Andrew nodded, taking in her words but understanding the concern behind them. "I’ll be ready, Miss Brown. You can count on it."

Sarah lingered for a moment longer, as if she wanted to say something more, but instead, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Andrew to ponder the complex woman who had just left the room.

***************

After a few minutes, the doctors finally discharged Andrew, though the bandage around his head was a stark reminder of how close he had come to losing his life. As they exited the hospital, Sarah pulled out her phone and called the gatekeeper. Her tone was brisk, almost dismissive, as she instructed him to pick them up.

The car ride back to the estate was quiet, the tension between them palpable. Andrew leaned back against the seat, his thoughts swirling, while Sarah stared out the window, lost in her own world.

When they arrived at the mansion, the evening sky was fading into twilight. Andrew stepped out of the car, still a bit unsteady on his feet, and glanced up at the imposing structure. The sight of it, grand and solitary, filled him with a sense of unease.

Sarah walked ahead of him, her heels clicking sharply on the stone path. She stopped just before the entrance, turning slightly, as if the next words were an afterthought. “You should stay here tonight,” she said, her voice casual, almost indifferent. “Until you’re stronger.”

Andrew hesitated for a moment, surprised by the offer—though it was more of a command than a suggestion. “Alright,” he agreed, nodding slightly.

Dinner was served in one of the many lavish dining rooms, the table set with an array of dishes prepared by her caterers. The meal was exquisite, but Andrew’s mind was elsewhere. As he ate, he couldn’t help but steal glances at Sarah, who remained composed, her expression unreadable.

Afterward, Sarah led him to the guest room, her steps echoing in the vast corridors. She opened the door, gesturing for him to enter. “This is your room,” she said curtly, as though she couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

Andrew stepped inside, taking in the elegant yet impersonal space. As he struggled to adjust the pillow on the bed, his bandaged head making it difficult, he felt a presence behind him. He turned slightly, and there was Sarah, standing in the doorway, her face unreadable.

Without a word, she crossed the room and leaned over him, her hands deftly adjusting the pillow to make him more comfortable. She was so close that Andrew could feel the warmth of her breath on his face, a sensation that made his heart quicken.

“You’re only doing this because I saved you,” Andrew said, his voice low, as he looked away, the vulnerability in his words surprising even him.

Sarah’s fingers stilled for a moment, and then she pulled back, her expression hardening once more. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she replied, her tone sharp. Without another word, she turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

An hour later, with the mansion enveloped in darkness, Andrew found himself unable to sleep. The sky was barely tinged with light when Andrew stirred, squinting at his wristwatch—it was 5 a.m. The silence of the place was unsettling, and something in the back of his mind urged him to explore. He rose from the bed and stepped into the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps soft against the tiled floor.

Andrew moved down the hallway, his curiosity deepening with every step. The walls were lined with photographs—Sarah and her mother, their lives captured in detail. But something was off. There was no trace of David Brown, the man he had only heard about.

His thoughts were cut short by a sudden crash. Startled, he realized his hand had knocked over a picture frame on a small table. His heart raced as he knelt down, carefully picking up the shattered glass. The photo inside was one he hadn’t seen before—a younger David Brown, his eyes sharp and intense.

As Andrew tried to piece the picture back together, a slow, deliberate creak came from behind him. He froze, his breath catching. Footsteps approached, echoing through the silent hall.

Turning slowly, Andrew's eyes locked onto a tall figure emerging from the shadows. He moved like a shadow, his guards trailing silently behind him. He looked like he just arrived from a trip. The security man at the door remained frozen.The man wore a dark suit, his face twisted with anger. His gaze shifted to the broken photo, then back to Andrew.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” The voice was cold, laced with menace.