Perfect CEO

Six years later, Gwendolyn sped to Avenport's Fourton Hospital in her secondhand Fiat. It was ten o'clock at night.

She hastily parked her car in front of the hospital entrance despite the security guard's warnings.

Gwendolyn lifted her daughter from the front passenger seat and dashed into the hospital.

The security guard failed to stop her from entering the hospital, and he barked, “Just wait till I clamp your car. Let's see what you'll do then!”

Bare-footed and still clad in her pajamas, Gwendolyn couldn't think straight. She could hardly hear a thing. Instead, she ran to the emergency department with her daughter in her arms. Her whole body shook with anxiety.

“Doctor, please, you have to save my daughter. Her temperature is so high that she's seizing up!” Gwendolyn pleaded tearfully.

A doctor hurriedly took the child from her arms and reassured her, “You can wait outside. We'll treat her right away.”

Then, a nurse led Gwendolyn out of the emergency room and said, “You can make payment first. Here's the receipt. Your daughter will need to be warded for observation, possibly in the ICU.”

Gwendolyn nodded several times and pleaded, “Okay. Please save my daughter.”

Juliette can't be sick. What if the fever damages her brain? She could not bring herself to imagine the worst possible outcome. Instead, she headed to the cashier, tears blurring her vision.

Just then, hurried footsteps drifted from the hospital entrance. A group of suit-clad men entered the hospital. The tallest of the lot led their group.

He wore a black coat ironed to perfection, making him seem even more imposing and aloof.

Blessed with sharp features and a pair of piercing, black eyes, the man exuded a mysterious aura. He pursed his lips tightly, giving off a commanding and unapproachable air.

Bystanders instinctively moved back to clear a path for him as he walked through the hospital.

Oblivious to his presence, Gwendolyn continued rushing to the cashier. They bumped into each other, and Gwendolyn teetered, losing her balance. With a slight frown, the man extended a long arm and wrapped it around her slender waist, stopping her from falling flat to the ground.

They met each other's gaze, and Gwendolyn shivered involuntarily at the sight of his icy expression.

We're in the deep of winter, and I can hardly feel the chill. Why am I shivering under his gaze? What the heck is he made of? Pure ice?

Patrick Lowen righted Gwendolyn to her feet and said coolly, “Please watch your step, miss.”

Gwendolyn remained frozen in shock until Patrick entered the elevator. She collected her wits then and turned around, shouting, “Watch your own step, mister.”

Please! He was the one who bumped into me. What a domineering man!

Patrick heard her from the elevator. He turned his gaze to her, only noticing that her bare feet were red from frostbite.

His gaze traveled upward to the old-fashioned pajamas she wore, her swollen, tear-streaked eyes, and her messy hair.

The elevator door closed, cutting short his appraisal.