Chapter 8 The Plan

Louis tensed at the question. Not because he didn't know the answer but because they both did. There was no need for him to say it out loud. Irene hadn't "suddenly" become this way. Life had shaped her, stripped away her warmth piece by piece until only this cold, ruthless version remained.

And her mother knew that better than anyone.

She had watched it happen helpless, unable to stop it.

Realizing the weight of her own words, Irene's mother let out a shaky breath before her composure finally cracked. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she broke down in front of Louis.

"She wasn't always like this," she whispered, her voice trembling. "She used to be...different."

Louis sighed, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. He stepped forward, gently placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Irene will be fine," he said softly, though he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

Because deep down, he knew that Irene wasn't just cold she was frozen. And unfreezing her? That was something no one had been able to do.

Louis exhaled quietly, glancing at Irene's mother, who was still wiping her tears. Without another word, he gestured toward the staircase. "Come on, Eleanor. Let's get you settled in for the night."

She nodded silently, pulling herself together as she followed him up the grand staircase. The house was eerily quiet, the soft glow of the hallway lights casting long shadows along the walls.

When they reached the guest room Irene had prepared, Louis pushed the door open and stepped aside to let her in. The room was elegant but simple, just like everything Irene did minimal yet flawless. The bed was already turned down, fresh towels neatly folded on the dresser, and a glass of water sat waiting on the nightstand.

Irene's mother walked in slowly, taking in the space. She smiled a little, running her fingers over the plush bedding. "She thought of everything," she murmured.

Louis leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "She always does."

She sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed. "Even when she acts like she doesn't care... she still does, doesn't she?"

Louis chuckled lightly. "That's Irene for you. A hurricane on the outside, but somewhere deep in there... she's still human."

She gave him a tired smile before looking toward the door. "You're going to check on her, aren't you?"

Louis smirked. "Of course. Someone's gotta keep that woman in check."

Irene's mother shook her head, amusement flickering in her exhausted eyes. "Good luck with that."

With a short laugh, Louis gave a small salute and stepped out, closing the door behind him. But as he walked toward his own room to freshen up, his expression darkened. Because tonight, he wasn't just checking on Irene.

He was going to do something about that damn medication she kept avoiding.

Louis stepped into his massive, luxurious room, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the sleek, modern interior. He wasted no time peeling off his suit jacket, followed by his shirt and tie, letting them drop carelessly onto the bed. His fingers worked on the buttons of his cuffs as he made his way to the en-suite bathroom, the cool marble under his feet grounding him.

The moment he turned on the shower, the cold water hit his skin like a shock to his system, sending a shiver down his spine. He let it run over him, his head tilted slightly downward, hands braced against the shower wall.

He needed this.

Not just to wash away the exhaustion of the day, but to prepare himself for what he was about to do.

It wasn't going to be easy. Not now, and definitely not when Irene found out.

She wasn't the type to be controlled, and she sure as hell wasn't the type to be tricked. But this wasn't about control it was about survival. And since Irene refused to care about that, Louis had to do it for her.

His jaw tightened as he thought about it.

She was stubborn. A damn hurricane of a woman who acted like she was untouchable. But he saw through it. He saw the cracks she tried to hide, the quiet way her body was giving up even when her mind refused to acknowledge it.

And if she hated him for what he was about to do?

So be it.

With a deep breath, he turned off the shower, running a hand through his damp hair before stepping out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, wiping off the condensation from the mirror as he stared at his own reflection.

His expression was unreadable, but his decision was made.

Tonight, no matter what, Irene was taking her damn medication.

Louis dressed up in a pair of black pants and a light nightwear shirt, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a deep sigh as he settled onto the couch in his room.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

He wasn't new to this. Irene wasn't the type to fall asleep early, nor was she the type to get exhausted easily. Even after her diagnosis, she had kept up her usual routine, pushing herself beyond limits as if sheer willpower could make her body forget it was failing her.

But lately...things had changed.

She had been sleeping earlier than usual. Getting tired faster.

He should be happy about that, right? Should be relieved that she was at least resting more. But he wasn't. Because he knew what it meant.

It was proof. Proof that her illness was catching up to her. Proof that her body was slowly giving in.

And it was all because she refused to take her medication.

She always said it was a reminder of what was wrong with her, and Louis understood. He really did.

But understanding didn't mean he was going to stand by and do nothing.

So he waited, watching the clock tick by, listening for any movement from her room.

And the moment he was sure she was asleep, he stood up, cracked his knuckles, and exhaled.

Time to do what needed to be done.

Louis stood outside Irene's door, pressing his ear against it, listening for any sign of movement. Nothing.

He exhaled softly, gripping the doorknob and pushing the door open with careful precision, making sure not to make a sound. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of her desk lamp casting soft shadows across the space.

And there she was fast asleep at her work table.

Typical.

Irene always did this. When she didn't feel like going to her home office, she'd work here instead, pushing herself until exhaustion won the battle.

Louis took a step closer, his gaze settling on her. Even in sleep, she was breathtakingly beautiful, her features so flawless they seemed almost unreal. The way her long lashes rested against her cheeks, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft glow of the lamplight illuminating her perfect face it was unfair how effortlessly stunning she was.

She looked... peaceful.

That usual cold sharpness was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. A sight no one else but him ever got to witness.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. If people saw her like this, they wouldn't be terrified of her. Instead, they'd probably want to shower her with ice cream and chocolate.

The mere thought of that made him chuckle under his breath.

But this wasn't the time to be amused.

As he moved closer to lift her, something on the table caught his eye her iPad, the screen still glowing faintly. He glanced down at it, and what he saw made him pause.

Sketches.

Flawless, intricate designs, each one more captivating than the last. She had been making adjustments, refining every detail, perfecting them in a way only she could. He swiped through a few, his brow lifting in silent admiration.

These new collections were definitely going to be another survival of the fittest for the elites.

Because if there was one thing that made I.V.Y special, it was the fact that they never repeated collections. Each drop was produced in just enough quantity for the masses, and once it sold out, that was it. No restocks, no second chances.

And that was exactly why people couldn't get enough of I.V.Y.

Every collection was a masterpiece, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And these new designs? They would be no different.

Even in exhaustion, even while battling something no one else could see, Irene was still a force to be reckoned with.

Shaking his head, he finally turned back to her and bent down, effortlessly lifting her into his arms. She stirred slightly but remained asleep, her face pressing lightly against his chest.

Making his way to her massive king-size bed, he gently laid her down, adjusting the sheets over her.

Now for the hard part.

Louis exhaled quietly as he straightened up, his gaze shifting toward the bedside drawer. He knew exactly where to look.

With careful movements, he pulled it open and there it was.

Rows of untouched medication, neatly lined up like forgotten soldiers.