Chapter 171
Chapter 171:
“She has a concussion and a fractured wrist. A few bruised ribs. She’s incredibly lucky,” the doctor said. “She’s asking for you.”
Kieran exhaled — a breath he felt like he had been holding for an hour. “Can I see her?”
He walked into the room. Aspen looked small in the hospital bed, her arm already in a cast, her face pale and stripped of makeup.
“Kieran?” she whispered, her voice raw.
“I’m here,” he said, pulling a chair close and taking her uninjured hand.
Dо𝘄𝗇lo𝗮𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘭𝗲 р𝗗𝘍ѕ 𝗼𝗇 𝘨𝗮𝗅𝗇o𝘃e𝗹𝘀.𝖼om
“I just wanted to fix things,” she sobbed, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes. “I was driving too fast. I was crying because I thought you hated me.”
“Shh. It’s okay. You’re safe,” he murmured, smoothing her hair back from her face.
“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded, gripping his hand with surprising strength. “Everyone leaves me. Even Daddy.”
The guilt struck him like a physical blow. I drove her to this. I pushed her away, and she almost died.
The violin faded from his mind. The lies about Ibiza faded. Jocelyn faded. All he could see was a broken girl who needed him — a girl he had failed to protect.
“I’m not leaving,” he said. “Ever.”
“Really?” She looked up at him, eyes wide and glistening.
“We’ll get married,” he decided, the words forming and settling all at once. “As soon as you’re out of here. End of the month. No more waiting.”
Aspen turned her face into the pillow, hiding the small, triumphant smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Back in the city, Jocelyn’s phone lit up with a news alert.
Socialite Aspen Schneider in Critical Condition after Hamptons Crash.
Jocelyn stared at the screen. A strange chill moved down her spine. She despised Aspen. Aspen was a monster. But she had never wanted her dead.
She hesitated, then texted Kieran.
Is she okay?
The reply came immediately.
She will be. We are getting married on the 30th.
Jocelyn looked at the phone for a long moment. The date was set. He was really going through with it — marrying the woman who had tried to destroy her.
“Good for them,” she muttered. She set the phone on her desk.
She felt nothing. No jealousy. No anger. Just a flat, quiet indifference that surprised even her.
“Time to focus on work,” she said to the empty room.
She pulled up the résumé of the final candidate for the CFO position.
Carmen Golden.
“Impressive background,” Jocelyn murmured, scrolling through the PDF. “Turned around three failing luxury hotels in Europe. Clean record.”
She pressed the intercom button. “Liam, schedule the interview with Ms. Golden for later this week. Thursday morning.”
She had no way of knowing that a single click had just pulled the pin on a grenade that had been sitting quietly in the Collins family living room for seven years.
.