Atticus's broad chest was inches from Avah's shoulder. The intense, predatory heat radiating from his body made her hold her breath.

He didn't touch Avah. Instead, his large hand accurately grasped the back of Leo's collar.

"I apologize for my son's intrusion," Atticus said. His voice was a low, magnetic rumble that vibrated in the small space between them.

He stood up straight, holding the boy. "I am a representative of the hotel where the fire occurred. I am here to handle the aftermath for the injured guests."

The moment Avah heard the word "hotel," the warmth in her eyes vanished. Her expression turned to frost. Any sympathy she felt for the man evaporated.

"I don't need your compensation," Avah said coldly, her voice flat. "I just want you both to leave my room. Now."

Atticus raised a dark eyebrow. He seemed slightly surprised by the sharp thorns she suddenly aimed at him.

Leo, dangling from his father's grip, kicked his little legs in the air. "No! Don't leave Mommy!" he cried out in protest.

Desperate to end this chaotic encounter, Avah threw off the thin hospital blanket and swung her legs over the side of the bed to show them out herself.

The moment her bare foot hit the floor, a blinding, agonizing pain shot up from her sprained ankle.

Avah lost her balance instantly. She pitched forward, a sharp gasp escaping her throat as the floor rushed up to meet her.

Atticus reacted with terrifying speed. With Leo tucked under one arm, his free hand shot out and clamped firmly around Avah's slender waist. The sudden exertion caused a violent, barely perceptible flinch in his broad shoulders. Beneath the crisp fabric of his left sleeve, the raw, blistering tissue of a severe, fresh burn pulled taut, sending a blinding spike of agony up his arm. But his grip remained absolute.

Even through the thin cotton of her hospital gown, Avah could feel the scorching heat of his large palm burning against her skin.

She looked up in panic. Her lips nearly brushed against his sharp jawline. Their breaths tangled together in the tight space.

Atticus's blue eyes darkened like a stormy sea. Without a word, he tightened his grip and effortlessly lifted her entire body off the floor.

The sudden weightlessness made Avah's stomach drop. Her hands flew up, instinctively grabbing the lapels of his dark suit jacket to steady herself.

Right at that highly intimate moment, the door to the hospital room was shoved open violently from the outside. Taking advantage of a brief shift change at the security desk, and aggressively flashing his VIP Hopkins family credentials to intimidate the floor nurses, Kain stood in the doorway. He had returned to do his superficial duty of checking on his fiancée after settling Jaclyn.

Kain's eyes immediately locked onto the sight of Atticus holding Avah tightly against his chest.

His handsome face twisted into an ugly mask of pure jealousy and rage. His skin turned a mottled red.

Kain stormed into the room, pointing a shaking finger directly at Avah's face. His voice dripped with acid.

"Did you really just get dumped and immediately spread your legs for some bottom-tier hotel employee?" Kain spat.

At the words "bottom-tier employee," Atticus's sharp jawline instantly tightened. A chilling, dangerous glint flashed deep within his eyes, completely imperceptible to the hysterical man before him, but his surface expression remained an impenetrable, stoic mask.

Atticus didn't put Avah down. Instead, he pulled her closer against his chest, adopting a highly possessive, protective stance as he faced Kain.

Avah was thoroughly disgusted by Kain's shamelessness. She struggled against Atticus's chest. "Put me down," she demanded through gritted teeth.

Atticus gently lowered her onto the edge of the mattress and carefully pulled the blanket over her legs.

Kain watched this tender exchange, his blood boiling. He lunged forward, raising his hands to shove Atticus out of the way.

Atticus merely shifted his weight. His right hand shot out, grabbing Kain's wrist, deliberately keeping his injured left arm shielded. Ignoring the fierce throb radiating from beneath his sleeve, he moved with a brutal, fluid motion, and twisted it hard.

A loud crack echoed. Kain let out a pathetic scream of agony. He stumbled backward, his legs tangling, and crashed hard into the leather visitor's sofa.

Atticus stood over him, looking down with eyes as cold as a glacier. "Watch your boundaries," he warned, his voice a lethal whisper.

Kain scrambled up from the sofa, cradling his red, throbbing wrist against his chest. He glared at Atticus with pure hatred.

Realizing he was completely outmatched physically, Kain cowardly shifted his vicious attack back to the woman sitting on the bed.

He looked Avah up and down with extreme disgust. "You have always had filthy blood running through your veins, Avah."

Kain raised his voice, making sure the words hit as hard as possible. "Did you forget the bastard child you carried three years ago? You brought shame to your entire family."

"You never change," Kain sneered. "You'll hook up with a broke loser carrying a piece of baggage just to satisfy yourself."

The vile words hit their mark. Avah's face drained of all color. Her knuckles turned white as her hands gripped the bedsheets in a death grip.

The air around Atticus instantly dropped below freezing. A terrifying, murderous intent rolled off his broad shoulders.

He pushed Leo behind his leg and stepped forward, fully intending to give this arrogant fool a lesson he would never forget.

"Stop." Avah's voice cut through the tension. It was ice-cold and completely steady.

She looked at Atticus. "This is my trash. I will take out my own trash."

Avah took a deep breath. Gritting her teeth against the screaming pain in her ankle, she shifted all her weight onto her uninjured right leg. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the mattress for support, forcing herself to stand up. Despite her trembling left foot hovering just above the floor, her spine was completely straight.

She looked Kain dead in the eye. There was no trace of the weak, accommodating woman she used to be.

"You left me to burn in that room," Avah stated, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. "You ran to Jaclyn."

"Don't use my past to cover up the disgusting fact that you've been sleeping with my stepsister," she finished, hitting the bullseye.

Kain's face went from pale to green. His eyes darted around nervously. "You're crazy! You're making things up!" he yelled, his voice cracking.

Avah didn't give him another second to perform. She reached for her left hand and forcefully yanked the massive engagement ring off her finger.

She threw the million-dollar diamond ring violently at Kain. It struck him hard in the center of his chest.

The ring bounced off his suit and hit the floor with a sharp clink, rolling away into the dark corner of the room.

"The engagement is over, Kain," Avah announced, her voice loud enough to echo in the hallway.

Kain stared at the ring on the floor. His male ego had just been publicly crushed into the dirt.

He pointed a shaking finger at her. "Without me, who would want a stained woman like you?" he roared.

"Marrying you was a PR nightmare waiting to happen anyway," Kain spat, trying to salvage his pride.

"The Hopkins family will withdraw every single cent of funding from the Astraea Group immediately," he threatened.

Avah let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Even if Astraea goes bankrupt tomorrow, I will never be your disgusting puppet again."

Seeing that his ultimate threat had zero effect, Kain shot her one last venomous glare.

He aggressively smoothed down his wrinkled tie, desperately trying to reclaim some dignity.

"You will crawl back to me on your knees," Kain sneered, before turning and slamming the door so hard the walls shook.

The deafening sound of the door closing faded. Avah's rigid shoulders finally slumped.

She collapsed back onto the mattress, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but she stubbornly refused to let a single tear fall.

Atticus stood quietly, watching this woman. She was as fragile as shattered glass, yet as sharp as a knife. A strange, dark desire to conquer her flared to life in his chest.

A dead silence filled the hospital room, broken only by the rhythmic, mechanical beeping of the heart monitor.

Leo seemed to sense the heavy sadness radiating from Avah. He wiggled out from behind his father's leg and ran over, wrapping his little arms around Avah's knees.

"The bad man is gone. Don't be sad, Mommy," Leo said, his soft voice trying to comfort her.

The pure, innocent warmth of the child melted the ice around Avah's heart. She forced a small, tired smile and gently stroked Leo's soft hair.

Atticus stepped forward. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a sleek, minimalist black business card. He handed it to Avah.

The card was heavy. It had only one word printed in silver foil: Atticus, followed by a private phone number. There was no company name, no title.

"If you require any further medical assistance, call this number," Atticus said, his tone strictly business.

Avah hesitated for a second, looking at his large hand, before taking the card. She placed it casually on the bedside table.

Atticus didn't linger. He scooped up a reluctant Leo, turned, and walked out of the room.

The moment Atticus stepped into the hospital corridor, he bumped into his close friend, investment banker Julian Vance, who was rushing toward him.

Julian stared at Atticus walking out of a standard VIP room, his face a mask of absolute shock and disbelief.

Julian grabbed Atticus's forearm and dragged him around the corner, lowering his voice to an urgent hiss.

"Are you insane? The board of directors is literally sitting in the conference room waiting for you to sign off on the acquisition, and you just vanished to come to a hospital for a random survivor?" Julian demanded.

Julian glanced back at the room number. "Look, I know the fire happened at one of your hotels, but you can't let the ghosts of your past dictate your actions today."

"Those old men are demanding an explanation. Don't throw away months of negotiations out of some misplaced sense of responsibility," Julian pleaded, his anxiety peaking.

Atticus coldly shoved Julian's hand off his arm. He slowly, deliberately adjusted his custom platinum cufflinks.

He looked at Julian. His blue eyes were dead calm, but beneath the surface, a terrifying obsession lurked. "She is not an ordinary victim."

Julian flinched at the raw possessiveness in Atticus's eyes. He stammered, "Then... then who is she?"

Atticus ignored the question. He turned to the head of his security detail standing nearby. "Lock down this entire floor. No one gets in or out without my approval."

He then looked at his executive assistant. "Contact the top orthopedic and burn specialists in the country. Assemble a private medical team for her immediately."

Julian listened to these insane orders, his jaw dropping. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Atticus, you can't do this! You're going to expose your location. The head of the Duke Consortium can't be seen doing this!" Julian argued.

Atticus shot Julian a single, freezing glare that instantly snapped Julian's mouth shut.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Avah picked up the black business card from the table. She rubbed her thumb over the thick, textured paper.

The material was incredibly expensive, yet there was absolutely nothing linking him to the hotel management.

She tossed the card into the drawer, deciding she wanted nothing to do with this dangerous man.

Suddenly, the door opened. Two doctors in crisp white coats, led by the head nurse, walked in.

"Ms. Raymond, we have been commissioned by the hotel to conduct a comprehensive evaluation of your injuries," the older doctor said.

Avah stared at their faces. She recognized one of them from a major medical journal. A deep sense of suspicion twisted in her gut.

How could a regular hotel manager mobilize this level of terrifying medical power in less than thirty minutes?