I left the bed, taking my phone from the bedside table and heading out to the balcony. Things were complicated. I knew a few things about her life, and that only made things worse. Rebecca had briefed me thoroughly before this whole fiancée charade began. She had done her homework—how, when, and where Ivy was born, her early childhood with her mother and brother, the glaring absence of her father, her mother's death, and how Ivy and her brother were taken in by Clara, her aunt. But even knowing all this, none of it explained the fear I saw in Ivy tonight.
Clara was vile; that much was obvious. But the details I had didn't align with the kind of trauma Ivy was dealing with. There were gaps—gaps that gnawed at me, like something crucial was missing from the picture. I couldn't ignore it. I needed to dig deeper.
I unlocked my phone and dialed Levi. He was my most reliable source, a friend who could find dirt on anyone if needed. After a few rings, Levi answered, his voice as playful as always. "Yo, Alex! Calling at this hour? You know I'm always having fun right now, right?"
In the background, I could hear the thumping bass of music and laughter. Vidáz. Of course.
"Get out of there. Now." My voice was low, but it carried a controlled anger I knew he wouldn't ignore.
There was a pause, then an annoyed sigh. "Seriously, man? Alright, alright, chill. I'm heading out. Party pooper." The sound of music faded as he moved, and after a few moments, I heard him getting into his car. "So, what's up with our icy god? Got a girl you can't handle?"
I wasn't in the mood for his banter. "I need you to get more information on Ivy," I said bluntly. "Everything we've got isn't enough. Something's missing, and I need to know what it is."
Levi was silent for a moment, all traces of humor gone. "Alright. What are you looking for, exactly?"
"Everything. Every. Little. Detail."
"Got it. I'll get on it." He paused for a moment. "Oh, by the way, I had some chick trying to get info on Ivy earlier. Mia Holt. She works for Brielle, one of her lackeys. It looks like Brielle's keeping an eye on Ivy. Probably sees her as a threat."
I grimaced, annoyed but unsurprised. Brielle had always been trouble, and her obsession with Ivy was growing irritating. I didn't care about her games right now, though. "Not interested. Handle it."
Before Levi could respond, I hung up and stared out at the night. The cool breeze did little to soothe the frustration and worry simmering inside me. What the hell had happened to Ivy to make her break down like that?
I turned back toward the room, and as I walked inside, a soft sound caught my attention. A whimper. I froze, my gaze zeroing in on Ivy.
She was gripping the sheets tightly, her body twisted in the grip of a nightmare. Her brows were furrowed, her lips parted, and her chest heaved in uneven breaths. "Mama…please... Don't—please, no..." Her voice was so small, so broken, that it made my chest tighten.
I took a step closer, watching her intently. She was sweating, her hair sticking to her forehead, her body trembling. Her pale skin seemed even paler, almost ghostly, as she muttered incoherent words.
"Please..." Her voice was hoarse, desperate.
Something was wrong—more than just the nightmare. Her skin was too hot, and she was flushed. I placed my hand on her forehead, and it felt like she was burning up.
She had a fever.
I cursed under my breath, running a hand through my hair. This wasn't just a bad dream. It was physical now. I needed to act fast.
I grabbed the phone on the nightstand and dialed the house staff. After a few rings, Louise answered, her voice groggy from sleep. "Sir?"
"Get to my room, now. Bring anything we need for a fever."
"Yes, sir."
I hung up and went back to Ivy's side, my mind racing. Her small, pained whimpers pulled at something deep inside me. I hated feeling helpless, and right now, that's exactly what I was. All I could do was wait for Louise, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to do more, to fix this.
Her breath hitched, and her body shuddered. I pushed a few strands of hair away from her face, watching her struggle. What kind of past was haunting her like this? What had happened to make her this terrified, this vulnerable?
After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and Louise shuffled in, rubbing her eyes. She stopped dead when she saw Ivy. "She's feverish," I said, my voice sharp. "We need to bring it down."
Louise nodded quickly, snapping into action. She left the room, returning minutes later with a cold compress, a glass of water, and some medicine. "Sir, you should try waking her gently. She needs to take this."
I sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook Ivy's shoulder, but she didn't wake. Her face scrunched up, another whimper escaping her lips. My hand froze. This felt wrong—forcing her to wake up from whatever she was trapped in.
"Ivy," I said softly, leaning closer. "Ivy, wake up."
Her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't fully open them. The fever was keeping her under, trapping her in whatever nightmare she was in. I clenched my teeth, torn between waking her up and letting her rest.
Suddenly, her body jerked, and her hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt. Her fingers clutched at the fabric desperately as if she was holding on for dear life. Her eyes finally opened, but they were glassy and unfocused, tears pooling in them.
"Please... don't leave me..." she whispered, her voice so faint it barely reached my ears.
I stiffened at the desperation in her voice. For a moment, I was frozen, unsure of what to do. But then instinct took over. I gently pulled her into my arms, cradling her against my chest. She felt so small, so fragile, like she might break if I wasn't careful.
Her frail hands clung to my shirt, her tears soaking into the fabric. I hesitated for a moment, glancing down at her tear-streaked face. She was trembling, but she wasn't fighting anymore. She just needed to be held.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside me. I'd never felt so helpless. Every instinct told me to protect her, to make sure she was safe and cared for. I glanced at Louise, who stood by with the cold compress and the glass of water, her face etched with concern.
"Louise, help me," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "Hold the compress on her forehead while I get her to take the medicine."
Louise nodded and approached the bed, gently placing the compress on Ivy's fevered brow. She moved with practiced ease, her movements smooth and confident. I reached for the glass of water and the medicine, preparing to administer it to Ivy.
"Ivy, can you wake up enough to take this?" I asked softly, my voice barely more than a whisper. I was careful not to startle her, to let her wake on her own terms.
Her eyes fluttered open slightly, still glazed with feverish confusion. She managed a faint nod, her grip on my shirt loosening just a little. I helped her sit up carefully, supporting her as she swayed slightly. I could feel her body trembling against mine.
Louise handed me the glass of water and I tilted it gently to Ivy's lips. She sipped slowly, her eyes never leaving mine, as if drawing strength from my presence. After a few sips, I pulled back and held out the medicine. "Just a little more, Ivy. This will help with the fever."
She took the medicine with some effort, her expression pained but determined. As she swallowed, I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. I continued to hold her, my arm around her shoulders, offering what comfort I could.
Once she had taken the medicine, I helped her lie back down, tucking her under the covers to keep her warm. Louise adjusted the cold compress, making sure it was placed properly. "Sir, we should monitor her temperature and ensure she stays hydrated," she said, her voice calm and professional.
I nodded, my gaze locked on Ivy's pale, flushed face. The worry gnawing at me was relentless. I could feel the weight of her suffering, the pain of her past bleeding into the present. I wanted to understand it all, to fix whatever was wrong, but right now, all I could do was be here for her.