Just thinking about it made her feel so bummed. No, she had to come up with another way to get out of here. Lucas must be freaking out after not seeing her for two days!

Ashley forced herself to calm down. After her attempt to escape by climbing down the bedsheets yesterday, the security around her had clearly been upgraded. Now, not only were there four bodyguards at the door, but several more had been added downstairs right below the balcony. At this rate, unless she suddenly grew wings, she had zero chance of escaping.

That realization hit her hard.

Wait a second... what if she could just get out of here first? She slapped her thigh as the idea struck. If she could leave his territory, running would be way easier.

But how could she convince him to let her leave willingly? Her brief excitement vanished, and her brows furrowed again.

Ugh, whatever, food first. No energy means no escape either. She grabbed her fork and wolfed down breakfast in mere minutes.

As she walked over to the sink to wash her hands, she turned on the faucet.

Got it!

Watching the cold water run gave her a sudden spark. What if she made herself catch a cold?

If she got sick, surely they'd take her to the hospital. That might just be her shot at freedom.

Good job, Ashley-brain working when it counts! She couldn't help but feel a little smug.

With a plan in place, time to put it into action.

She headed straight to the shower, flipping the cold water on full blast.

Whoa-that was seriously cold!

As the icy water poured down on her head, she almost jumped back out of reflex. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to stay under the shower for over an hour, soaking in freezing water until her clothes were dripping wet. She finally stumbled out, shivering.

Her head felt heavy, and as soon as she hit the bed, she slowly drifted off into a daze.

"Mr. Finley, something's wrong-Miss Carter's burning up!" The maid who brought her dinner noticed something was off and rushed to tell George.

"Got it," George responded quickly, not daring to delay. He immediately called Kevin to come check on her.

"Who... who are you?" Ashley heard a voice nearby and cracked her eyes open, seeing a man holding an ear thermometer.

"I'm a doctor, Miss Carter. You've got a fever," Kevin replied after checking the display.

Wait-he's a doctor? That means... is this a hospital?

She perked up a bit, but the side glance she cast around the room showed she was still in the same giant bedroom.

"This isn't a hospital?"

"This is the Blackwood residence," George explained.

"No! I feel awful. I wanna go to a hospital!" The second she realized she hadn't left the villa, Ashley tried to sit up in protest.

"Please don't worry, Miss Carter," George said, thinking she was doubting the doctor. "Dr. White's very skilled. He'll get your fever down in no time."

"But..." She tried to argue again.

"Lie down, please. Let me take another listen." Kevin gently pushed her back down and raised his stethoscope to check her again.

Oh no... from the looks of it, taking her to the hospital wasn't even on their radar. Lying there, Ashley was panicking inside, but she couldn't show it-if they caught on, all her effort would go to waste.

It was almost eleven at night when Charles finally wrapped up work and headed back to the villa.

"Sir, about Miss Carter..." George started to report on Ashley's condition.

"No need to update me about her every day!" Charles cut him off coldly, still pissed about last night.

"Yes, sir." George figured the fever had mostly gone down anyway-no need to stir up trouble unnecessarily.

As Charles walked past Ashley's room, his steps halted without him realizing it. Staring at the tightly shut door, his legs just carried him over on their own.

It had only been a day, but he was already losing his mind wanting to see her.

"If you keep me locked up here, sooner or later, I'll find a way to kill you!" Her heartless words from the night before echoed in his ears.

Funny, isn't it? Just to get back to that man, she'd rather kill him. And here he was, still pathetic enough to miss her.

With a bitter laugh, he yanked his hand from the doorknob and stormed back to his own room.

No idea how long she had slept, but Ashley slowly opened her eyes.

When did she even fall asleep? She vaguely remembered popping a few pills for her fever.

Reaching up, she touched her forehead. Wait, what the...? The fever's gone?

She stared blankly for a second, stunned. Seriously? Took her so much effort to catch a cold and now it's already over? Should she thank the doctor for being too good or curse her stupid immune system?

Heck no, she couldn't get better this fast. She had to go to the hospital!

Determined, she jumped out of bed and ran straight into the shower.

This time, she stood under the cold water for two, maybe three hours. It wasn't until her vision started blurring and even standing felt like a struggle that she finally turned the tap off and dragged her soaked body back to bed.

The next morning, a maid came by with her breakfast.

"Miss Carter, your breakfast." She carried the plate in and set it on the table.

There was silence.

"Miss Carter? I brought your breakfast," she called again.

Still no response.

That's when she noticed Ashley's face was flushed, hair plastered to her scalp with sweat like she had just stepped out from a shower. But the wet hair wasn't from any shampoo...

Worried, the maid quickly set the plate aside and grabbed a thermometer. When she saw the reading, her hands trembled.

"Miss Carter? Miss Carter!" She gave her a light nudge, then a few more. Nothing.

Panic hit hard.

Face gone pale, the maid bolted downstairs.

"Mr. Finley! Mr. Finley!" she shouted, flagging down George who had been checking on Charles's breakfast in the kitchen.

"What's with the panic?" George asked slowly, glancing up.

"It's Miss Carter! I- I think she passed out!" the maid panted, trying to catch her breath.

"What?" George's eyes widened as he rushed up the stairs behind her.

He reached Ashley's room and saw her lying there, and instantly realized she wasn't exaggerating.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and called Kevin.

It wasn't long before Kevin arrived, and George led him straight to Ashley's room.

Meanwhile, Charles had just finished eating and was heading outside, about to get in his car, when he noticed the vehicle parked nearby.

"Whose car is that?" he asked Oscar, who was standing by waiting.

"It's Dr. White's. I saw him drive in earlier," Oscar replied respectfully.

"Kevin? What's he doing here?" Charles frowned, puzzled.

"Looks like he's here for Miss Carter. I heard she had a huge fever this morning and passed out," added Oscar.

Passed out?

Why the hell didn't anyone tell him that?

Charles didn't even think-his body had already turned and bolted upstairs before his mind caught up.

When he burst into Ashley's room, Kevin was already examining her. Ashley's eyes were shut tight, her forehead soaked with beads of sweat, and her face twisted like she was fighting something in a nightmare.

"Why didn't you report this to me?" Charles spun around, his voice sharp as a blade, aimed straight at George.

"I'm sorry, sir," George explained quickly, "I knew you had a really important meeting today. I didn't want you to be distracted."

"You think a damn meeting matters more to me than her?" Charles snapped, his eyes narrowing.

"That was my mistake. I wasn't thinking straight," George said, lowering his head.

But Charles didn't have time to argue. He turned back toward Kevin. "What's the situation?"

"She's running a high fever and she's unresponsive," Kevin said, looking puzzled. "It's strange, though. I managed to bring her fever down yesterday. No clue why it suddenly spiked again."

Wait-she was already sick last night? It hit Charles then-he remembered George trying to tell him something, but he'd cut him off.

"Charles," Kevin said seriously, "Her condition's critical. I suspect acute pneumonia with respiratory failure. If we don't act fast-"

Before he could finish, Charles was already moving, scooping Ashley into his arms and heading straight for the door.

The car tore through traffic and screeched to a halt at the hospital.

A whole team of doctors and nurses were already waiting by the entrance.

Ashley was quickly transferred to a stretcher and rushed into the ER.

They worked nonstop the whole morning-antipyretics, physical cooling, all of it. But nothing helped. Her temperature wouldn't budge.

"Do none of you know what you're doing? You can't even bring down a damn fever!" Charles exploded, glaring at the room full of stunned medical staff.

No one dared make a sound. Each person stood frozen, staring at the floor.

Ashley lay motionless on the bed, her body jerking spasmodically, still deep in a coma.Seeing how miserable she looked, Charles felt like he'd take the pain for her if he could.

"Get me a tub of crushed ice water, now!" When nothing else seemed to work, he decided to try his own method.

Soon enough, the tub was ready just as he'd ordered.

Everyone else backed out of the room, leaving only two female nurses behind.

Charles gently lifted Ashley from the bed and slowly placed her into the ice-filled tub.

After making sure she was settled, he straightened up.

Ashley's lips were trembling nonstop, sweat beading on her pale forehead, yet her whole body was freezing cold from the ice water.

Charles stared at her, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Cancel everything on today's schedule," he said as he pulled out his phone and called his assistant, Aaron Moore.

"Everything? But sir, you have a meeting at eleven with the chairman of Sterling Valor Group. It's the biggest financing project this quarter," Aaron reminded him.

"Did I stutter? I said cancel it. All of it." His tone was sharp and final before he ended the call.

His eyes went back to Ashley. Her face was paper-white, completely drained of color.

Honestly, even Charles didn't know what else he could do. He'd tried everything he could. Now, it was all up to her-she had to pull through.

Around four in the afternoon, a nurse checked her temperature-finally down to 39°C.

Afraid her body might not hold up if she stayed in the cold water too long, Charles picked her back up and carefully laid her on the soft hospital bed.

"Lucas... Lucas... don't go..." Ashley murmured in her sleep. Tears streaked down from the corners of her closed eyes, soaking into her hair.

Was that guy really that great? Even now, in this state, she kept calling his name. Hearing it drove a sharp chill into Charles's chest.

"I miss you... Lucas..." she breathed out again.

"Ashley, say his name one more time. I dare you," Charles muttered, on the verge of losing it.