Grace woke up in Donald's arms.
For the first time in many nights, she had slept without fear.
No dark thoughts, no haunting dreams, just warmth.
She lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. His arm was around her waist, strong and protective.
She could feel his breath near her neck. Her body relaxed in a way it hadn't in years.
She slowly opened her eyes.
Donald was already awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind was somewhere else.
He wondered how she managed to survive in such a small, broken-down apartment.
She deserved more than this.
"Good morning," She whispered, her soft voice broke his thoughts.
Donald turned his head and smiled.
"You're awake," he said, his tone calm. "You slept so peacefully."
Grace smiled, although she tried to hide it.
"It's been a long time since I felt safe enough to sleep like that." Grace replied.
He nodded, not trusting himself to say much. He didn't want her to see how deeply her words affected him.
Grace sat up and stretched.
"I have to get ready. I haven't been to work for three days. Mr. Paul will probably query me."
Donald leaned forward, still sitting by the edge of the bed.
"I'm sure he won't. You've been through a lot. He'll understand."
Grace let out a small laugh. "You clearly don't know Mr. Paul."
Donald watched her as she paced around the room in confusion, going about her morning routine.
Her hair was messy, her blouse wrinkled, but she didn't care much about her appearance.
There was something about her restlessness that drew him in.
She wasn't like the women he knew. She was real, full of life, not pretending to impress anyone.
He got up and started dressing. When he was done, he walked back to her.
Grace was still searching for something underneath the bed. Donald reached out, gently pulling her up until their bodies met.
She froze for a moment. Their eyes met. He could smell her perfume. It was faint and sweet.
His hands went around her waist slowly as he dressed her hair.
His fingers gently rubbed her face down to her neck.
Grace stood in his embrace unsure of what to do or say. But she felt safe with him and something in her didn't want him to stop.
He kissed her softly, slowly. It wasn't rushed. It was like they were both afraid to break the silence between them.
When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes.
"I need you to be careful," he said quietly. His voice was low but filled with concern.
Grace was speechless for a moment. She didn't know what to say.
No one had ever said those words to her like that before.
"I'm running late," she finally whispered.
Donald let go of her. She turned away quickly, pretending to look for her shoe again.
"Before I forget," he said, "I've assigned one of my guards and a car to you."
She turned immediately, her face showing irritation.
"Donald, I don't need all that. I'm fine. It's my job. I know what I signed up for."
He slipped his hands into his pockets. "We're not debating this, Grace. He'll take you everywhere you need to go."
She folded her arms. "I'm not using him," she said firmly.
Donald smiled a little.
"Then see him as part of my help in our agreement to find who is behind the corruption in Cole Group." he said, his voice was calm and gentle.
"I don't need this noise," she said. "I like doing things solo."
He stepped closer.
"I'm sorry, Grace. You stole the heart of billionaire Donald Cole. You'll have to get used to it."
He bent down, picked up a shoe under the bed, and held it up. "Oh, is this the shoe you were looking for?" he said with a smile
Grace sighed and snatched the shoe from his hand.
"You're unbelievable," she said, shaking her head.
He chuckled. "You'll thank me later."
They walked out of the apartment together. Two cars were parked in front of her building, sleek black vehicles that drew attention.
Grace could already feel the eyes of neighbors watching from their windows.
Donald opened the door of one car for her.
"Stay safe," he whispered as his hand brushed against hers.
Grace nodded silently. He gave a signal to the driver and the guard, and the car pulled away.
Grace sat quietly in the back seat, staring out the window as the city passed by.
Her mind was a storm. She didn't know what to feel.
The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, it felt real. But she had learned not to trust men like him.
The rich always had a reason. Maybe she was just another distraction. Maybe she was part of some plan she didn't understand yet.
When the car stopped in front of her office, she took a deep breath and stepped out.
Everyone stared at her as she walked in. She felt their eyes on her, watching her every move.
Grace made her way to the desk.
Mr. Paul, rushed out of his office the moment he saw her.
"Grace, where have you been?" he said sharply. "You better have a good explanation."
Grace sighed. "I was attacked," she said honestly. "But I'm fine now. I have a new lead. Mr. Cole is helping me."
Paul frowned. "Helping you? The same Cole you're investigating?" He lowered his voice. "Grace, be careful. The rich can't be trusted. They always protect themselves first."
"I know," she said softly. "But I need answers. And I think I'm close."
She didn't wait for him to reply. She grabbed her notebook.
"I need a pass to access the health care directory. " She said with so much confidence.
"I don't know what you are up to but be careful." Mr Paul replied as he handed her the pass from his drawer.
She left the office. She had no time to waste. Something that seemed like hope surged in her. She felt she was closer to the truth.
She searched the directory for the addresses of the nurses that were on duty when Mrs Bernard was admitted.
She found their address. She wrote them down in her notebook and left the building.
Her next stop was Mrs. Elizabeth who lived around the area. Her house was just thirt minutes drive.
It led her to a small compound with rusted gates.
She made her way to the front door. She rang the bell and a middle aged woman opened the door.
"Good day, I'm looking for Mrs. Elizabeth,"
The woman frowned. "My grandmother? She's been dead twelve years now."
Grace's heart sank. She thanked the woman and walked away.
The rain from the night before had left puddles on the ground. Her shoes were soaked again, she sighed.
The second address took her farther out of town.
A small bungalow with peeling paint and a noisy generator sat by the roadside.
Grace knocked. After a while, an old woman opened the door. Her hair was gray, and her hands trembled slightly.
"Yes?" she asked in a weak voice.
"Good afternoon, ma. My name is Grace. I'm a journalist. I'm investigating a case about Mrs. Bernard. I was told you worked at the hospital years ago."
The woman stared at her for a long moment before nodding slowly.
"Yes. I took care of Mrs. Bernard. Come in." she said finally.
Grace followed her into the small house. Her heart was beating fast. Maybe this was the clue she had been looking for.
*****************
Meanwhile, at Cole Group headquarters, Donald sat behind his large glass desk.
Files were spread all over. He tried to focus, but Grace's face kept flashing through his mind. Her laugh, her eyes, the way she challenged him.
He was lost in thought when the door opened. A woman walked in, tall and confident. Her heels clicked against the marble floor.
"Nicole?" Donald stood up, his voice filled with surprise. "What are you doing here? I told you not to leave London."
Nicole smiled softly, her eyes sparkling with something unreadable.
"I missed you, Donald," she stepped forward. "We have a wedding to plan, remember?"