Bryan stepped closer and reached for the car door.
Before he could get inside, Angeline caught his arm.
“Please let me drive you home, sir. I promised I would get you there safely,” she said, her voice firm despite her exhaustion.
“Don’t you have a mirror?” Bryan asked.
Angeline blinked. “A mirror?”
“Your face is so pale that you look like you’ve already died.”
“I’m not dead.”
“I don’t plan on dying tonight, either. So go home. I don’t want to get into an accident because you’re driving while looking like that.”
He tried to pull his arm free, but Angeline held on.
“I can do it. Please, sir. Let me take you home.”
Bryan let out a tired sigh. At that moment, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen and answered the call.
He was in no condition to drive, and he needed to get home as quickly as possible. After a brief hesitation, he handed Angeline the keys.
“Fine. Drive.”
Relief flashed across Angeline’s face. She hurried around to the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Despite her pale complexion, the sweat beading on her forehead, and the icy air-conditioning filling the car, she remained focused. Her hands were steady on the wheel. She accelerated, changed lanes, and turned with practiced ease, never making a single mistake.
Bryan, occupied with a phone call to one of his clients, could not help noticing. Angeline did not drive like a novice. Her movements were smooth, controlled, and professional.
Before long, the car entered Bryan’s driveway.
Angeline got out first and opened the rear door for him.
“Please get some rest, sir,” she said with a small bow.
“Thank you for getting me home safely.”
Bryan took out his wallet and handed her a hundred-dollar bill.
“A tip.”
Angeline accepted it with a bright smile. “Thank you.”
She turned and walked away.
Bryan watched her go, unable to explain why his gaze lingered on her. Then he turned toward the house.
He had taken only three steps when a heavy thud echoed behind him.
Bryan spun around.
Angeline was lying motionless on the driveway.
He hurried toward her and crouched beside her.
“Hey. Are you all right?”
He shook her shoulder, but she did not respond. When he touched her face, her skin was feverishly warm, drenched in sweat, and frighteningly pale.
Bryan’s expression darkened.
With a reluctant sigh, he lifted Angeline into his arms and carried her inside. He placed her on the living-room sofa before calling a doctor he knew.
An hour later, Angeline slowly regained consciousness.
Her eyelids fluttered open. The unfamiliar ceiling above her made her sit up in confusion.
“Awake?”
Bryan entered the room carrying a paper bag.
“You fainted on the street,” he said. “Of all places, it had to happen outside my house.”
Angeline stared at him, still struggling to understand where she was.
“I’m… at your house?”
“Yes.” Bryan placed the bag on the table. “The doctor examined you. You’re malnourished, exhausted, and anemic. What exactly have you been doing to yourself? How can you keep working in that condition?”
His tone was harsh, but beneath the irritation was an unfamiliar concern.
Angeline lowered her gaze. “I’m sorry for causing you trouble, sir. I’ll pay for everything. Could I pay you in installments?”
Bryan stared at her.
Most people would have asked about their health first. Angeline’s first thought was how to repay him.
“Eat something before you leave,” he said, nodding toward the bag.
Instead of reaching for it, Angeline grabbed her phone.
The moment she checked the screen, her face fell.
“Oh, no. I’ve missed several jobs. Why did I have to faint now?”
She immediately pushed herself off the sofa and headed for the door.
Bryan caught her hand.
Angeline looked down at his fingers around her wrist, then pulled free.
“Thank you for helping me. Please send the medical bill through your driver, sir. I’ll pay you back. Excuse me.”
She turned and walked toward the guest room where she had left her things.
Bryan remained in the living room, silent.
He wanted to let her leave. He had no reason to care about a stranger who had collapsed on his property.
But when he imagined her fainting again somewhere on the road, a restless unease settled in his chest.
By the time Angeline reached the doorway, Bryan had followed her.
“How much?” he asked.
Angeline stopped and turned around. “What?”
“How much do you charge?” Bryan asked. “By the hour? Or by the job? I’ll pay you.”
For a moment, Angeline simply stared at him.
Then her eyes widened. She crossed both arms over her chest.
Bryan’s expression changed when he realized what she had misunderstood. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“What do you mean, sir?” Angeline demanded. “I’m not an escort. I may desperately need money, but I still have my dignity. I’ll take all kinds of work, but I won’t sell myself to a man like you.”
Bryan froze.
Then, to Angeline’s astonishment, he laughed.
His cold, severe expression vanished, leaving behind a smile that made him look even more attractive. Angeline stared for half a second too long before quickly looking away.
“Why are you laughing?” she asked angrily. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No. I’m sorry.” Bryan forced himself to regain control. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I can’t believe you thought I was offering money for… that.”
He glanced toward the paper bag.
“I only want you to finish the meal I bought. If you leave in your current condition, you’ll probably collapse again before you reach the street.”
Angeline’s anger faltered. “What?”
“Finish the meal, and consider your doctor’s fee paid. Take the medicine the doctor prescribed, too.” Bryan frowned. “I don’t know why I’m taking responsibility for you.”
A short while later, Angeline finished a bowl of warm porridge and took her medicine.
Bryan sat nearby, absorbed in his tablet. A message suddenly appeared on the screen of his phone.
It was from Jennifer Rose.
Bryan hesitated before opening it. Instead, he set the phone down, and the brief warmth that had appeared in his expression disappeared.
His face became cold and unreadable once again.
After washing the bowl and plate, Angeline returned to the living room.
“Thank you for the porridge and the medicine,” she said. “Are we even now? If so, I’ll take my leave.”
“Why do you keep accepting odd jobs?” Bryan asked, stopping her. “You even agreed to work as a substitute driver. What if I had been a dangerous man?”
Angeline’s fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
“I’m willing to do whatever honest work I can find to make a living,” she replied. “My mother is sick, and there’s no one else to support our family. If I don’t do it, who will?”
“Anything,” Bryan repeated. “As long as it pays?”
“Yes.”
Bryan fell silent.
He watched her for a moment, considering the message he had received and the problem waiting for him at home. Then he walked closer, stopping only one step away.
Both hands slipped into his pockets.
“In that case, would you be willing to work for me?” he asked. “For at least one year.”
Angeline looked at him cautiously. “What kind of work?”
Bryan’s gaze settled on her face.
“Marry me,” he said, his voice calm and deliberate. “And give birth to my son.”
Angeline stared at him in shock.