Nevian's POV
Slumped against the wall, I cradled my head with one hand, the other resting on my hip as I shifted my weight nervously from one foot to the other.
Last night had been a disaster. I was on my way to an important function when a street girl darted in front of my car, and now here I was, burdened with the unexpected responsibility of caring for her.
I was meant to meet my contracted wife at that gathering—a marriage arranged by my father, who insisted I tie the knot before stepping into my role as head of the family business. It was never my desire; after my high school heartbreak, I had sworn off relationships. Yet, here I was, forced back into the world of commitment because of my lineage.
A few moments later, the doctor entered, a file in hand. He flipped it open, and though I couldn't decipher the x-rays, his words were clear.
"No broken bones. She's neurologically sound." Relief washed over me, and I inhaled deeply, glancing at the girl as she lay there, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.
Captivated by her fragile beauty, I edged closer, kneeling beside her and gently loosening the tangled mess of her hair. As I cleaned the dirt from her face with a damp cloth, I reached for her shirt, intending to change her into something more comfortable, when an ear-splitting scream pierced the air, stopping me in my tracks.
In a defensive instinct, she bit my hand, her teeth sinking in mercilessly. I stumbled back, clutching my injured hand, while she looked at me with wide, innocent eyes.
"Are you out of your mind?" I shouted, frustration bubbling over.
"I should be the one asking you that!" she shot back, scrambling onto all fours.
Instead of fuming, I shook my head in disbelief and stepped out of the room. When I returned, she was scanning the space like a curious child. But the moment our eyes met, her expression turned cold and unreadable.
"Here," I said, placing a tray with a freshly cooked meal beside her. I stepped back, my hands shoved deep into my pockets, giving her space.
She didn't move, instead thumping her feet against the bed and humming a tune to herself. Understanding her message, I left the room but lingered in the hallway, watching her through the peephole.
To my surprise, she devoured the food with enthusiasm, and I found myself smiling despite my better judgment. We hadn't even spoken yet, and the circumstances of our meeting were anything but ideal, yet I felt an inexplicable pull toward her.
Restless, I paced the corridor, raking my fingers through my hair, trying to shake off the thoughts swirling in my mind. Finally unable to resist, I pushed the door open, locking eyes with her once more.
"I'm Nevian Allerick," I introduced myself, extending a hand for a handshake, but she averted her gaze, cold and dismissive.
"Sorry for intruding," I murmured, frustration gnawing at me as I stood up, ready to leave. Just as my hand reached the doorknob, I turned back. "I have a meeting to attend, but when I return, we need to talk." I didn't expect a reply, and her silence stung more than I'd like to admit.
In the hallway, I signaled to a maid, who hurried to my side.
"Look after her while I'm gone," I instructed, and she nodded dutifully, making her way back into the room as I headed to my own.
As soon as I stepped inside, my phone buzzed on the desk. I rushed to it, hoping it was my secretary updating me about the meeting. Instead, it was my father.
"Great," I muttered, bracing for a lecture as I answered.
"Don't you dare give me that tone, young man!" His voice boomed over the line. "You were supposed to be at the function last night! What happened? You didn't even bother to call…"
"I got into an accident," I interjected, knowing this was my only card to play.
"An accident? What do you mean? Where are you now?" His barrage of questions came in rapid succession.
"I'm home," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "I hit someone and needed to sort it out…" My voice trailed off as I gazed out the window, the weight of what had happened pressing down on me.
"I told you to hire a driver, but you never listen…" My father continued his tirade, and I regretted mentioning the incident at all.
While he ranted, something caught my eye outside. It was her—the girl from last night—making her way toward the gate.
"I'll call you back," I said abruptly, cutting him off before he could respond.
Dialing the security personnel, I held the phone to my ear. "Let her leave," I instructed, a smirk creeping onto my face.