The sun had barely risen over the sleek skyscrapers of the city when Chen Li, Zhao Jingshen's right-hand man, strode into the opulent lobby of Zhao Enterprises. His usually impeccable appearance was marred by dark circles under his eyes, testament to the sleepless nights he'd endured since his boss had sequestered himself at the hospital.
As he made his way to the executive elevator, Chen Li's mind raced with the tasks ahead. Zhao Jingshen's instructions had been clear: dismantle the Lian family's business empire piece by piece, but do it quietly. It was a delicate operation, requiring finesse and ruthlessness in equal measure.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the hushed executive floor. Chen Li paused at his secretary's desk.
"Any word from Mr. Lian?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
The secretary nodded, her expression a mix of anxiety and exhaustion. "He's called six times since midnight, sir. Each time more... insistent than the last."
Chen Li pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache brewing. "And you've relayed Mr. Zhao's message?"
"Yes, sir. That he's unavailable and will contact them when he's ready."
"Good," Chen Li nodded. "Keep doing that. And get me the latest reports on the Lian Group's stock performance."
As he settled into his office, Chen Li couldn't help but marvel at the change in his boss. The Zhao Jingshen he knew would never have delegated such a crucial operation, let alone for the sake of a woman. But then again, Jiang Meilin was no ordinary woman.
Chen Li's computer pinged with an incoming message. It was from one of their operatives embedded in the Lian Group's finance department. He opened it, a grim smile spreading across his face as he read the contents.
"Well, Mr. Lian," he murmured to himself, "it seems your empire is starting to crumble."
Meanwhile, across town, the private wing of the city's most prestigious hospital buzzed with activity. Doctors and nurses moved efficiently from room to room, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air. Everyone knew that the man in Room 2501 was not to be trifled with.
Inside that room, the first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds of the hospital room, casting a warm glow on Jiang Meilin's sleeping form. Zhao Jingshen, who had barely moved from his vigil at her bedside, watched as the light played across her face, highlighting the delicate curves of her cheekbones and the gentle flutter of her eyelashes.
For a man who had built his empire on cold logic and ruthless efficiency, Jingshen found himself utterly disarmed by the surge of emotions that welled up within him. He wanted to reach out and trace the line of her jaw, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. But he held back, acutely aware of the invisible line that still existed between them.
Fiancée. The word echoed in his mind, a stark reminder of the complications that lay ahead. Lian Fei might be dead to him after her despicable actions, but in the eyes of society and his family, she was still the woman he was set to marry. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
As if sensing his tumultuous thoughts, Meilin stirred, her eyes slowly opening to meet his intense gaze.
"Good morning," she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"Good morning," Jingshen replied, his voice gentler than he had intended. "How are you feeling?"
Meilin took a moment to assess herself, stretching slightly and wincing at the pull of her stitches. "Better, I think. Still sore, but the pain isn't as sharp."
Zhao Jingshen nodded, relief evident in his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, to feel her heartbeat against his chest and know that she was truly safe. Instead, he settled for adjusting her pillows, his hands lingering perhaps a moment too long.
"The doctor should be here soon for rounds," he said, clearing his throat. "Is there anything you need before then?"
Meilin shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. She could see the fatigue etched in the lines around his eyes, the slight stubble on his usually immaculate jaw. "Jingshen," she said softly, "you look exhausted. Why don't you go home and rest for a bit? I'll be fine here for a few hours."
Something flickered in Jingshen's eyes – was it suspicion? – but it was gone so quickly Meilin wondered if she had imagined it. "I'm fine," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. "I want to be here when the doctor gives their report."
Meilin bit her lip, torn between the warmth his presence brought and the urgent need to contact her shadow guards. She knew she was walking a dangerous line, playing the role of a struggling artist while harboring secrets that could shatter the tentative connection she and Jingshen had forged. But every time she looked into his eyes, she found herself wanting to reveal everything, consequences be damned.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Dr. Zhang entered, his kind eyes taking in the scene before him.
"Good morning, Miss Jiang, Mr. Zhao," he greeted them warmly. "How are we feeling today?"
As Dr. Zhang began his examination, Jingshen stepped back, his eyes never leaving Meilin. He watched as she answered the doctor's questions with a quiet strength that belied her fragile appearance. It was moments like these that made him question everything he thought he knew about her. Even though they had only known each other for a little over a week, it felt like a lifetime ago.
The image of Meilin effortlessly taking down armed attackers flashed through his mind. It was a side of her he still couldn't reconcile with the gentle artist he had come to know. His instincts, honed by years in the cutthroat business world, screamed that there was more to Jiang Meilin than met the eye. But his heart, newly awakened to emotions he had long suppressed, didn't care about her secrets. It only knew that she had become essential to his existence in a way he couldn't fully comprehend.
"Well, Miss Jiang," Dr. Zhang's voice brought Jingshen back to the present, "I'm pleased to say that your recovery is progressing remarkably well. The wound is healing cleanly, and there are no signs of infection. If you continue to improve at this rate, we might be able to discharge you in a few days."
Meilin's face lit up at the news, and Jingshen felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her genuine smile. "That's wonderful news, doctor. Thank you."
Dr. Zhang nodded, then turned to Zhao Jingshen. "Mr. Zhao, may I have a word with you outside?"