Morris's POV
The tension radiating from Monica was palpable during our drive. Something had clearly upset my normally composed assistant, and her anxiety filled the car's interior.
Upon arrival, she bolted from the vehicle before I could even shut off the engine. I hurried after her, concern mounting with each step. When she glanced back with questioning eyes, I quickly explained.
"I'm coming with you. Whatever this emergency is, you might need assistance."
She acknowledged with a simple nod, too preoccupied to argue. Inside her apartment, we were greeted by a worried woman.
"Monica, thank goodness you're here. I was about to phone you again," the woman said, wringing her hands.
"Where is he, Kayla?" Monica asked, her voice tight with concern.
"In the bedroom. His fever's climbing. I was just fetching him some water," Kayla replied.
