Chapter 1 - The Woman Who Wasn't Afraid
A crystal glass shattered at Sadi's feet.
“Clean it up if you want this job.”
Desmond Gallagher watched from his wheelchair as she looked down at the broken glass.
But Sadi didn't reach for a broom.
She reached for his blanket.
And Desmond suddenly realized she wasn't afraid of him.
Sadi stood beside the wheelchair with one hand resting on the heavy wool blanket covering Desmond's legs.
For three long seconds, neither of them moved.
The shattered crystal glittered across the polished floor.
Behind them, two security men stood silently near the doors.
They had watched men twice Sadi's size become nervous simply because Desmond Gallagher looked at them.
Sadi wasn't nervous.
Not anymore.
She had been nervous when she drove through the estate gates.
She had been nervous when two armed-looking security guards searched her bag.
She had been nervous when she walked into the enormous room and found the most intimidating man she'd ever seen staring at her like she was an inconvenience.
But now?
She was irritated.
That was different.
“You're testing me,” she said.
Desmond's pale blue eyes narrowed.
“I don't test people.”
“You just dropped a hundred-dollar glass to see whether I'd crawl around picking it up.”
“It wasn't worth a hundred dollars.”
Sadi glanced at the shards.
“Then you need better glasses.”
One of the security men coughed into his fist.
Desmond slowly turned his head toward him.
The cough stopped.
Sadi almost smiled.
Almost.
Then she looked back at Desmond.
“You want a caregiver?”
“Yes.”
“Then stop wasting my time.”
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Nobody spoke to him like that.
Not anymore.
For six months, everyone who entered this room had either looked at him with fear or pity.
Some had tried to hide it.
Others hadn't bothered.
They saw the wheelchair first.
They saw the useless legs beneath the blanket.
They saw the scars left by the explosion.
They saw a man who had once controlled an empire and now needed assistance getting out of bed.
Sadi saw none of those things first.
She saw a stubborn man.
A difficult man.
A lonely man.
And, beneath all of that, someone who was furious that his body had betrayed him.
She reached down and lifted the blanket.
Desmond's expression hardened instantly.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking your legs.”
“You don't have permission.”
“You're interviewing me to manage your medical care.”
“I said put it back.”
Sadi ignored him.
The muscles in his legs had visibly wasted during the months following the explosion.
She crouched beside the wheelchair and examined his left calf.
“Your circulation isn't great.”
Desmond stared at her.
“You've been sitting too long.”
“I've been paralyzed for six months.”
“I noticed.”
His jaw tightened.
She looked closer.
“There.”
“What?”
“Early pressure damage.”
His expression changed.
“You're wrong.”
“No.”
She touched the edge of the fabric covering his calf.
“You've been hiding this.”
Desmond's hand tightened around the wheelchair controls.
“How many nurses have you fired?”
“Four.”
“Why?”
“They were incompetent.”
Sadi looked up.
“They were probably too scared to tell you when something was wrong.”
Silence.
Desmond stared at her.
That was the moment he understood she was different.
Not because she was brave.
Because she was honest.
He reached forward.
His hand closed around her wrist.
The grip was strong.
Sadi looked down at his hand.
Then back at his face.
She didn't pull away.
“Let go.”
His eyes remained fixed on hers.
“You don't know who you're talking to.”
“Yes, I do.”
“And you're not afraid?”
Sadi shrugged.
“I've been late on rent for three months. Your reputation isn't the scariest thing I've dealt with.”
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement moved through Desmond's expression.
Then it disappeared.
He released her.
Sadi stood.
“You need proper repositioning every few hours.”
“I know.”
“No. You know the words. You aren't doing it.”
His silence confirmed it.
She sighed.
“Fine. We start tomorrow.”
“You're hired.”
She blinked.
“That easy?”
“No.”
Desmond gestured toward the broken glass.
“You're cleaning that.”
Sadi stared at him.
“You're unbelievable.”
“And you're employed.”
She shook her head.
“Get me a broom.”
She turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the broom.”
“I thought you weren't a maid.”
“I'm not.”
She paused.
“But apparently you're a child with expensive furniture.”
The door closed behind her.
Desmond stared at it.
One of the security men lowered his eyes.
“Sir?”
Desmond didn't answer.
He looked down at his legs.
Then at the closed door.
Something about Sadi bothered him.
Not her sarcasm.
Not her lateness.
Not even the fact that she had touched the blanket without permission.
It was the fact that she had looked at him without pity.
For the first time in six months, someone had looked at Desmond Gallagher and seemed to expect him to recover.
Not physically.
As a man.
Two weeks passed.
The estate changed around Sadi.
Not dramatically.
She still arrived late sometimes.
She still complained about the enormous house.
She still called the mansion “the haunted museum.”
But Desmond noticed things.
She opened the curtains every morning.
She forced him to sit outside.
She argued with him about medication.
She refused to let his employees carry him when he could use the transfer equipment himself.
And she never once spoke to him like a fragile object.
At three in the morning, everything changed.
Rain battered the windows.
Sadi was reading in the corner of Desmond's bedroom when she heard a sharp breath.
She dropped the book.
Desmond's entire body had gone rigid.
His hands gripped the sheets.
His right leg was violently contracting.
“Spasm?”
He nodded.
Sadi moved immediately.
She threw back the covers and positioned his leg carefully.
“Breathe.”
“It hurts.”
“I know.”
“You don't.”
“Then tell me.”
He clenched his teeth.
The muscle seized again.
Sadi pressed both hands against his thigh and calf.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Breathe.”
The pain lasted nearly a minute.
Then slowly, the tension disappeared.
Desmond collapsed against the pillows.
Sadi remained beside him.
“You need to adjust your medication.”
“No.”
“Desmond.”
“No.”
“You're going to keep suffering because you don't want to feel tired?”
“I run a business.”
“You're barely sleeping.”
“I can function.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open.”
He stared at her.
She sighed.
“Take one pill.”
“No.”
“One.”
He looked away.
“Fine.”
Sadi handed it to him.
He swallowed.
She began cleaning the medical equipment.
Then Desmond's phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
Sadi noticed.
“Everything okay?”
Desmond didn't answer.
The phone vibrated again.
This time he turned the screen toward himself.
The message contained only six words.
I KNOW WHO PLANTED THE BOMB.
May you like
Desmond stopped breathing.
And beneath the message was a photograph of Sadi entering his estate that morning.
