Angela's POV

I didn't know what was happening anymore as I closed my eyes, when suddenly his grip loosened on my neck.

I saw Ian fall. It seemed that while Ian was focused on me, Aaron attacked him from behind. Ian tumbled to the floor, letting out a moan of pain. Aaron rained punches on him.

I coughed, my lungs burning for a real breath. My knees gave out, and I dropped to the floor. Ian... he was going under Aaron's blows, one after another.

Aaron finally stopped when Ian was helpless. He approached, his gaze filled with worry. "Angela, hey... are you okay?"

I managed only a weak nod. No words came out. The world spun too fast, too terrifying to bear. Aaron pulled me into his arms, like he knew what I needed. "I'm sorry... I should've been here sooner."

His warmth hit me like a lifeline, steadying the storm inside. I shook, pressing into his chest, tears soaking his shirt, all the fear I'd been bottling up finally spilling out. He didn't say much-didn't have to. I was so damn glad he was here. I couldn't even imagine what would've happened if he hadn't shown up.

He finally pulled back. Wrapped his jacket around me in one swift move. "Let's get out of here."

God, the way he looked at me... warm, steady, almost too much to take. And that's what scared me. If he ever found out the truth, would that look still be there? Or would it disappear, just like that?

"Angela." His voice had a hint of worry, dragging me out of my thoughts. "We should get going."

Aaron helped me up, his hand steady at my waist. As we left the art room, I caught sight of Ian, lying there, helpless. My chest tightened as I remembered how close I had come, but Aaron took my hand, his fingers holding mine and somehow giving me the strength.

The way he cared made my eyes sting. It was warm, genuine... he treated me like I was so precious to him. When we reached the school entrance, Aaron walked me to the front of the car. My driver was already waiting.

"Thank you, Aaron," I said.

"You need to get checked out," he said.

I shook my head slowly, "No need. I'm fine. Resting at home is enough for me. But, your wound..." I glanced at his battered face.

"Don't worry. I'm fine." He touched his mouth with a wince but still offered me a smile. "Make sure you get your wound treated when you get home."

He opened my car door and waited until I was settled before closing it quietly.

I watched him wave his hand through the window. Guilt gnawed at me for leaving him like that. Immediately, I opened my car window. "Aaron," I called out.

"Come with me. I'll take you home," I said. I knew he was taking the school bus, but the school bus had long since left because of our late exit.

Aaron fell silent, his face unreadable. When his eyes met mine, there was a flicker of hesitation. He wasn't the type to ask for help, not even when it mattered.

"Hey," I said firmly. "You're not going home alone, not like this."

Finally he nodded, and a faint smile crossed his battered lips. "All right," he said.

My heart pounded the moment he sank down beside me. Seeing him up close knocked the air out of my chest. His face was battered, bruises dark against his skin, and blood at the corner of his mouth. The sight of it made my throat tighten.

I couldn't stop myself. My hand lifted on its own, fingertips brushing his cheek as gently as I could. He winced, a reminder of how much pain he was in, and guilt twisted hard inside me.

"Does it hurt that much?"

"I'm fine. You don't have to worry so much," he told me gently.

My driver suddenly interrupted our conversation. "Where to, Miss?"

"We're going home first," I replied.

"Okay, Miss," the driver replied before starting the car.

"Aaron, you need to come to my house first. I'll treat your wound."

"No need. It's just a small cut, it'll be fine."

I let out a sharp sigh, fed up with how damn stubborn he was. "Aaron Carter!" I snapped.

"Your wound could get infected if you keep ignoring it. I'm going to treat you, no arguments. And don't bother throwing me any more excuses."

The car pulled up to my house a moment later. I got out fast and guided Aaron through the door.

"Sit here," I said, pointing to the dark brown leather sofa in the living room. "I'll get the first aid kit."

Aaron just gave a short nod. I hurried into the kitchen, straight to the bottom drawer by the sink where the first aid kit was always kept. My fingers yanked it open, relief hitting me when I saw the white box with the red cross.

When I came back, he was still on the couch, silent. I dropped to my knees in front of him and flipped the kit open on the table. "This might sting a little," I warned, dipping the cotton swab into the antiseptic.

I started cleaning the cut on his cheek. My hands shook more than I wanted them to and the closeness made it impossible to ignore his breath brushing against my face.

"Why'd you have to be so reckless?" I muttered, finally breaking the silence. "Ian could have done worse to you."

"If it meant I could protect you," he said softly. "It was worth it."

"You don't have to do any of this for me," I whispered, pressing the bandage on the wound on his brow. "Look at you now. You got hurt because of me."

I looked up at him, and he gave me a faint smile. "I'm fine. These bruises don't mean a thing. What matters is that you're safe."

I froze. The second our eyes met, the rest of the world faded.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist. I flinched, air catching in my throat. It wasn't harsh, just steady in a way that pinned me in place.

"Aaron..."

Angela's POV

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me deeply. Then he caught my hand and drew it against his chest. My breath hitched, my whole body frozen under the weight of that moment.

"Angela," his voice came rough, low enough it barely reached me. "You matter to me. I won't let anyone touch you like that. Not ever."

My heart was racing. His mouth hovered too close, his breath ghosting across my skin. I should have pulled back, put space between us. But I didn't. I couldn't. A part of me didn't even want to.

I didn't even realize my eyes were closing. The world went quiet, like it didn't exist anymore, only the two of us did.

But just then, my phone rang, snapping me out of it.

I grabbed the phone from the table, giving Aaron a quick glance. "I have to take this," I said softly, almost like an apology.

Aaron simply nodded. I stood up, stepped into the corner of the room, and finally pressed the green button.

"Hello."

"Is this Ms. Angela?" The woman on the line sounded tense. "This is the hospital. We need to inform you that Mrs. Jones's condition is very serious, and we need your approval for an emergency surgery right away."

"We can't wait any longer. We need to act now," she added.

Her words hit me like a bolt of lightning. My chest tightened under the weight of what I'd just heard.

"I'll be right there," I said.

I slowly walked back to the living room and found Aaron watching me with a puzzled look. "What happened?"

I lowered my head, trying to hide the storm inside me. The hospital's call kept echoing in my mind. Mom was in critical condition, and they needed my consent for surgery. But how was I supposed to explain all this to Aaron? I didn't want to burden him again after everything he'd done for me today.

"I just remembered something I need to take care of," I said quickly, forcing a smile I hoped looked natural. "I have to go. You can use my car to get home."

Aaron's gaze sharpened. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I said, though even I could hear the nervous tremor in my voice.

"Angela."

I looked up, meeting his eyes. I fought back the tears burning behind them, praying he wouldn't notice.

"If you have to go, then go," he said quietly. "But if you need help-anything-tell me."

My chest tightened even more. There was so much I wanted to say, but nothing came out. I just nodded.

"Thank you, Aaron," I whispered before turning and leaving.

***

The drive to the hospital felt endless. Worry for Mom ate at me the whole way. My mind was filled with worst-case scenarios. I tried calling Dad several times, but like before-nothing. Straight to voicemail. Again and again. It felt like I was facing everything alone.

When I arrived, I rushed toward the ICU. A nurse stopped me at the doors.

"Are you the guardian for Mrs. Jones?" she asked.

"Yes, that's me."

"Dr. Smith, our surgeon, is waiting to explain the procedure." She guided me to a consultation room.

Inside, Dr. Smith stood in his white coat, looking at me seriously.

"Miss Jones, we need to perform emergency surgery to save your mother," he said. "But we need your consent to proceed."

I swallowed hard. "What do I need to do?"

He briefly explained the procedure and its risks, then handed the paperwork to the nurse beside him. She pointed to a small table in the corner.

"Please sign here."

I nodded, grabbed the forms, and signed them quickly before handing them back.

"Thank you. We'll begin preparations right away," the nurse said as she left with the documents.

I nodded again, my heart pounding as I stared at the ICU doors, silently praying Mom would make it.

In the waiting room, I sank into a chair. Thoughts of Mom flooded my mind-her gentle smile, her warm laugh that always made the house feel alive. And now she was in surgery, fighting for her life.

Without realizing it, tears streamed down my face. I wanted her back so badly. Her encouragement, her reminders to eat-every small moment suddenly felt priceless.

I bit my lip to keep from breaking down completely. After taking a shaky breath, I tried calling Dad again. Still nothing.

Needing a distraction, I scrolled through my phone-until a notification made my breath catch.

"Jones Corporation Faces Bankruptcy Amid Financial Crisis."

I reread the headline over and over. Failed projects. Investors pulling out. Dad's company-his pride-standing on the edge of collapse.

My hands trembled. Mom in surgery. Dad's company falling apart. My entire world was crumbling. How was I supposed to handle this?

Lost in the chaos of my thoughts, I jolted when someone called my name.

"Angela Jones?"

I looked up to see an elegantly dressed woman standing a few steps away. Her presence alone seemed to dominate the room.

"Yes, I'm Angela. Who are you?" I asked, my voice tense.

She gave a faint smile. "My name is Victoria Bennett. It's good to finally meet."

My stomach dropped. Bennett. Ian Nathaniel Bennett. Was she related to that jerk? Memories from school flashed-his hands on me, and Aaron dragging him away before anything worse happened.

"What do you want?" I asked, my heart pounding.

Victoria stepped closer, her expression icy. "I've heard about my son, Ian. And your friend, the one who dared to leave him bruised and bloodied."

Angela's POV

I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the anger rising inside me. "Ian deserved it," I snapped.

Victoria let out a soft laugh. "Deserved or not, that's not for you to decide. Rules only apply to people with power. And you and your little friend?"

"So because we don't have power, we're not allowed to stand up for what's right?" I shot back.

"I've heard about your father's company," she continued smoothly. "You know how easy it is to destroy something that's already hanging by a thread, don't you?"

I froze. "Are you threatening me?"

"Threatening you? No, I'm just showing you reality. In this world, the weak only survive when they know their place. But you and your friend crossed a line, and you had the nerve to mess with my family."

I opened my mouth to fire back, but she cut me off.

"But I'm feeling generous, Angela. I'm giving you a chance. Tomorrow, you testify as the victim. Think it through. The one who almost assaulted you was Aaron. Ian only stepped in to save you. You tell that story...and you save your family."

My stomach twisted hearing something that disgusting come out of her mouth. "You want me to frame Aaron?" My voice rose, outrage breaking through the fear.

Victoria lifted a brow, that thin smile stretching wider. "Reality isn't as black-and-white as you think. Do what I ask, and the Bennett family will help keep Jones Corporation from collapsing. And when your mother wakes up, she won't be greeted by the ruins of her life."

My breath hitched. Her words sank into me like ice, making my heart pound even harder.

"But if you don't," she added, brows lifting, eyes full of confidence, "then prepare to watch your family fall apart."

Victoria slipped a business card from her wallet and held it out to me. "Think carefully, Angela. If you change your mind, you can reach me anytime."

She turned to leave, but paused just long enough to throw one last line over her shoulder.

"Sometimes, to gain something big, you have to sacrifice the small things."

With that arrogant stride of hers, Victoria walked away. I stared at her fading silhouette, my hand shaking as I clutched the card.

I wanted to tear it into shreds, scatter it across the floor, anything to erase her threat.

No. I wouldn't betray Aaron. But fear clawed at me. I couldn't let my family be destroyed-not by the Bennetts.

Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. How did my life get to this point?

Time dragged painfully slow. Until the heavy creak of the operating room door made me lift my head.

***

A nurse stepped out of the ICU. "Are you family of Mrs. Jones?"

I shot to my feet and hurried over. "Yes, I'm her daughter. How is she?" I asked, my voice tight with worry.

"Dr. Smith is finishing her post-op notes," she said. "He'll meet you in his office shortly. I can take you there."

I nodded and followed the nurse to the doctor's office.

"Good afternoon, Miss Jones," Dr. Smith greeted as he walked in.

"Afternoon, Doctor," I replied quickly. "How's my mom? Did the surgery go well?"

"It went smoothly. We were able to clear the blockage in her main artery, and blood flow to her heart is stable now," he said with a reassuring smile.

I let out a shaky breath, relief washing over me, even though the anxiety hadn't fully left. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She still needs close monitoring, but if there are no complications, her recovery should be good. We'll be watching her closely for the next 24 to 48 hours," he explained.

I nodded again, feeling slightly lighter. "Thank you, Doctor."

A while later, I was allowed into the ICU. The moment I saw Mom lying there with tubes connected to her body, my chest tightened. Her face was pale, drained of every trace of strength. I walked up and wrapped my hand around her cold one, trying to give her some warmth.

"Mom..." I whispered. "Please wake up. I need you."

I knew she couldn't hear me, but I kept talking anyway, hoping somehow she'd feel me there.

***

I barely slept last night. After Mom's surgery, my mind wouldn't stop spinning. Dad's company, Victoria Bennett's threat, and the disciplinary hearing at school this morning-all of it tangled inside my head.

The school had contacted Dad to inform him about the assault incident. The moment he heard, he looked terrified. He wanted to come to the hearing today, but I convinced him to focus on the company and Mom instead.

Now I was sitting in the school's disciplinary room. Principal Davies stared at me with sharp eyes, the long table between us feeling like a barrier.

Across the room, Ian sat with his mother, Victoria Bennett-calm and confident. Aaron was in another corner with his mom, Sarah. Both Aaron and Ian still had bruises from last night.

"Angela," Principal Davies finally said, breaking the silence. "We've received a report that you were almost assaulted. We need to hear directly from you. Who did this?"

My hands trembled in my lap. The memory hit me like a punch-Ian's cold stare, his rough hands, the fear choking me. And Aaron, who rushed in, stood up to him, and got beaten for it.

I lowered my head, my voice stuck in my throat. Everyone waited for my answer. I knew whatever came out of my mouth would change everything. Truth-which would destroy Dad's company and Mom's safety. Or a lie-which would destroy Aaron.

I looked at Aaron. At the bruises he earned protecting me. But if I told the truth, Victoria Bennett would crush my family without hesitation.

I clenched both my hands and forced myself to speak.