Chapter 5 She Is A Savior

After tucking the needle case into her bag, Nicole faced Aidan and let a small, quiet smile grace her lips. "They're only for healing," she remarked, her tone gentle but firm. "Never for harm."

Aidan didn't respond. His gaze slid away, settling on her hand-expression unreadable, every emotion carefully locked away.

Slanting rays of sunlight fell across Nicole's fingers, making them look impossibly delicate. The pale mark on the back of her hand, left by his grip, was still visible-a small, fragile echo of their earlier struggle.

Across the room, Lilah released a slow, relieved breath. At last, the tension in her chest began to unravel; Aidan looked almost normal again.

It was astonishing how quickly Nicole's needles could bring him back from the edge. In most cases, his episodes stretched on for hours-sometimes the whole day would be swallowed by them.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Duran strode in, two bodyguards trailing at his heels. He halted mid-step, stunned by what he saw. Clear-headed and steady, Aidan held himself upright and spoke with ease. The scene hit Duran with the force of a slap.

Duran gaped at Nicole, awe shining in his eyes. "Ms. Wilson, is it possible you can truly heal Mr. Moore?"

Aidan cut him off, voice low and unyielding, "That's enough, Duran."

The reprimand snapped Duran back to himself. He fell instantly silent.

Still cool and unreadable, Aidan shifted his attention to Nicole, speaking in a tone stripped of warmth. "Show Ms. Wilson to the guest room. She needs rest."

Duran nodded crisply. "Understood, sir."

Nicole kept her expression neutral, deciding it was smarter not to push for understanding. Without another word, she slipped out with Duran, moving with quiet poise.

Only when the door clicked shut behind them did Aidan finally notice Lilah still rooted in place. A crease formed between his brows, and a hint of impatience crept into his voice. "Why are you still here?"

Lilah gave a flustered little smile. "I just wanted to make sure you're alright. But now that I see you're fine, I'll go." With that, she hurried out.

Left alone, Aidan pulled out his phone. Scrolling through contacts, he dialed, lowering his voice as the call connected. "Any updates on the woman from five years ago?"

Leonel Gibson, Aidan's assistant, let out a heavy exhale, fatigue lining his features. "Still nothing. The thumb ring you gave her? It's vanished-no trace, not even a whisper on the black market. Honestly, sir, tracking her down is like chasing a ghost. This is going to be tough."

Aidan's reply sliced through the air, sharp and cold. "Keep searching."

"Got it, sir."

...

Later that afternoon, news drifted through the halls: Analia Moore, Aidan's formidable grandmother, had arrived at the estate. The moment Duran heard, he abandoned his chores and made a beeline for the foyer, eager to share that Aidan could finally be saved.

From across the entryway, Duran spotted Lilah guiding Analia gently by the arm, whispering in her ear.

He rushed forward, breathless with excitement. "Madam, you're back! Did you hear? Ms. Wilson can..."

Analia's expression tightened with impatience. "Bring Ms. Wilson to the living room. I want a word with her."

"But Madam, today Ms. Wilson..."

Lilah's soft voice slipped between them. "Duran, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Analia wants to speak to Ms. Wilson about everything that happened today. Please, just fetch her."

Duran suspected Lilah had already filled Analia in on Nicole's needlework with Aidan. Accepting that, he gave a quick nod. "I'll go get her."

He made his way to Nicole's guest room and gave a soft knock. "Ms. Wilson? It's Duran."

Nicole set aside her book, her mind full of questions about Aidan's condition, and made her way across the room to answer.

When the door opened, Duran met her with a courteous smile. "Mrs. Moore has returned and would like to see you."

Nicole replied with a subtle nod, "Alright." She stepped into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind her.

As they started down the corridor together, Nicole spoke up, her voice low. "Has Mr. Moore's condition been worsening?"

Duran kept his tone respectful. "These days, he's going through episodes once, sometimes twice a week."

A sharp glint appeared in Nicole's eyes. That pattern was too frequent. The situation was sliding out of control.

After a brief pause, Duran's expression turned searching. "Ms. Wilson, do you honestly believe you can cure him?"

Nicole's expression remained composed as she answered, her voice low but resolute. "He has a real chance-if he's willing to fight for it too."

Duran offered a brisk nod. "Understood."

The living room came into view just as the last notes of conversation faded away.

Nicole's eyes were instantly drawn to the sofa, where Analia sat rigid and unmoving, her back radiating silent authority. A heavy, expectant hush hung over the room, tightening the air.

Perched beside Analia, Lilah quietly carved the peel from an apple, her movements calm and deliberate.

"Analia, your apple's ready. Want me to slice it for you?" she asked softly.

"That won't be necessary." The chill in Analia's response replaced any hint of tenderness with unmistakable authority.

Lilah offered the apple without another word, only then glancing up to notice Nicole. "Did you find time to rest this afternoon, Ms. Wilson?"

Her words carried a faint undercurrent of possession-territorial, even-and Nicole caught it instantly, lips curving into a knowing smile. "I did, thank you," Nicole replied, her tone light, unbothered.

She let her gaze drift to Analia, who sat rigid, her back still turned. The atmosphere tightened, thick with unspoken history. Nicole chose her words with gentle deliberation. "Good afternoon, Madam. My name is Nicole Wilson."

A visible tremor rippled through Analia's shoulders. That voice-she knew it. She forced herself to turn, breath catching as her gaze collided with Nicole's.

The woman standing before her-gentle-featured, strikingly composed-sent a rush of memory and shock pulsing through her veins. Nicole's tranquil smile only drove the realization deeper.

This was the same woman who had once pulled her back from the brink.

The shock stole Nicole's breath, leaving her momentarily speechless. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected the delicate woman she'd rescued to be Analia herself.

All the frost and aloofness drained from Analia's face. She sprang up from the sofa, clasping Nicole's hand with an urgency that brooked no refusal. The apple, suddenly irrelevant, tumbled onto the coffee table as Analia seized Nicole's hand with both of her own, her fingers trembling from the force of her joy.

For a heartbeat, words deserted her. The sheer happiness blazed so suddenly that Analia could only stand there, her eyes shining with disbelief.

Lilah's gaze darted between them, her own breath catching in her throat.

Could it be true? Was Nicole really the mysterious savior Analia had spent days longing to find?