Chapter 40

Emily Smith walked into the hospital elevator, clutching a fruit basket. Her fingers absently traced the handle as the numbers climbed toward the seventh floor—Michael Thompson's ward.

The elevator dinged open.

Michael was propped against his bed, scrolling through his phone. When he saw her, he set it aside with a grin. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"It's the least I could do." She placed the basket on the nightstand, her gaze lingering on the bruises on his face. "What did the doctor say?"

"Just superficial wounds. I'll be discharged by Monday." He waved it off. "The police said David Brown is covering all expenses—plus a hefty compensation."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Would I lie?" He gave her a knowing look. "I suspect Vice President Johnson pulled some strings."

At the mention of William Johnson, her fingers twitched. She lowered her lashes. "What do you want for lunch? I'll grab something."

"Not yet." He gestured for her to sit. After a pause, he ventured, "Emily, about you and Vice President Johnson..."

She met his gaze evenly. "It's strictly professional. I do what he asks." A beat. "Including sleeping with him."

Michael fell silent. The memory of spotting William with Olivia Davis at the Hermès boutique suddenly made sense.

"Were you that desperate for money?" he blurted.

"Past tense." She smiled faintly. "Not anymore."

He chuckled dryly. "Right. Being with Vice President Johnson—"

"We both get what we need." She cut him off, dimples appearing. "Can you keep this between us, Michael?"

"Of course." He agreed readily, then joked, "Might need you to put in a good word for me someday."

After leaving his room, Emily headed to her sister's VIP ward. The girl was asleep. She set down the fruit quietly and watched her for a while.

By noon, she exited the hospital and grabbed a quick noodle lunch nearby. As she paid, she remembered she was running low on sanitary napkins.

A department store stood a block away, its supermarket in the basement. Riding the escalator down, her gaze drifted to the glass elevator at the center of the atrium.

Inside, William stood impeccably dressed in his suit, Olivia clinging to his arm. The girl rose on her toes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Emily jerked her eyes away. The escalator reached the basement, and she mechanically stepped into the supermarket.

She only picked up one pack of sanitary napkins before checking out. At the register, her phone rang.

"Daniel?" she answered.

"Want to come over and record today? I'm free," came Daniel Chen's warm voice.

"No need," she declined flatly. "I'm heading home. We'll connect online later."

Hanging up, she walked out of the mall, the midday sun stinging her eyes.