Under His Rule ✔

Chapter 8 POV Elsie

A hand wraps around me from behind, covering my eyes. Time seems to stand still at this moment, and the air becomes thick and stagnant.

The faint fragrance from Vincent's cuff instantly sweeps through my brain, spreading throughout my body with the warmth of his palm.

Like anesthesia, it makes all the pain disappear.

I find myself back in the examination room, showing the test results to the doctor.

He prescribes medication and instructs me to wait in the emergency room for intravenous treatment.

Vincent arranged a private room for me, and due to the late hour, the small room is exceptionally quiet.

It starts to rain outside, and the room is filled with the smell of disinfectant.

The wall clock shows it's already 11 p.m.

"Mr. Vincent, thank you for bringing me to the hospital," I say.

"You can go back now; there are nurses here to take care of me."

Being alone in the hospital when you're sick is not a pleasant experience, but fantasizing about a sugar daddy accompanying you for an IV?

That's even more absurd.

Vincent indeed stared at me for a few seconds before leaving.

Bored, I take out my phone and earphones, opening a variety show I often watch.

It's a comedy show.

Normally, I would burst into laughter, even spitting out food while eating. But for some reason today, I can't seem to laugh.

The rain outside grows heavier, and the rhythmic and dense white noise makes me drowsy.

I switch the screen to WhatsApp and send a photo of the hospital diagnosis to Bryan along with the message, "Can you help me request a leave from the crew tomorrow? I have a fever."

Then I rub my eyes, ready to turn off the phone.

Bryan immediately calls me. "Which hospital are you in right now?"

I provide the address.

"I'm out of town, but I can get back within four hours."

"No need; I'm not that serious. Have a good rest."

"How did you get sick?"

I briefly describe today's situation to him, of course, omitting the part where I ran to find Vincent while having a fever.

"It's outrageous that in the middle of winter, the entire crew accompanies her on a water scene. Tomorrow, I'll talk to the director."

"Watch your tone."

I don't want to strain relationships too much; after all, even after the film wraps, actors will still have to work together for promotional activities and may cross paths.

"You can trust me." Bryan says.

I hang up the phone, my eyelids getting heavier.

However, I dare not sleep; if I doze off, there's no one to call a nurse for me.

But I'm too tired; my fevered brain finally thinks of a solution. Estimating the time it would take for the IV bag to finish, I set an alarm and then lean against the chair, closing my eyes with peace of mind.

Almost instantly, the sound of rain outside disappeared.

When the alarm rings, I open my eyes, initially dazed, and it takes a moment for my consciousness to return.

I recall what I was doing before falling asleep.

So, my first instinct is to look up and check if the IV drip has finished.

However, as I raise my eyes, I find Vincent standing beside me.

In the late-night emergency room, he's wearing a thin white shirt.

I must have been mistaken or still be in a dream.

I rub my eyes, but he's bending at the waist, seemingly not noticing me—more like a dream.

I want to touch him for a moment, but someone restrains me.

"Don't move."

A female voice rings out.

I follow the voice and look to the other side. The medicine bag has deflated, and the nurse is changing it for me, glancing down at me.

"Your boyfriend is so kind to you."

"He's not..."

I can't finish my sentence because I lower my head only to discover I'm covered in a suit jacket with Vincent's familiar fragrance lingering.

Slowly, I realized the situation.

After the nurse leaves, Vincent sits in the vacant seat next to me and softly says, "Daring to sleep while getting an IV alone in the hospital, you are so courageous."

Is it the effect of the medication? My heart suddenly feels like it's racing.

After a while, I speak softly, "How did you come back?"

"I went to ask the nurse how much longer you'd be on the IV, and I haven't left since."

The suit jacket draped over me slides down a bit. Vincent lifts it, covering my shoulders again.

His tone is heavy, tinged with some helplessness.

"A man leaves a woman alone in the hospital late at night and goes back to sleep by himself? Elsie, am I really a psycho in your eyes?"

"No." My speech suddenly accelerates.

Realizing I'm too excited, I slow down my pace, saying softly, "No, Mr. Vincent, thank you."

Vincent touches my forehead again and then says, "Speaking of which, I haven't thanked you for the vase you gave me."

"Do you like it?"

"I do; it's pretty. How much did you spend on it?"

"... £3,000."

"Really?" He raises an eyebrow, seeming a bit skeptical.

"Yeah."

I avoid eye contact, not looking at him. In truth, his suspicion is correct; I omitted a zero in the number.

But I don't want him to know.

My phone in my pocket starts ringing again, and it's Bryan calling.

I slide to speak, but his rapid-fire voice comes through.

"Brave, brave Elsie Hannaway. Leave the set at night. Alone?"

"..." I furrow my brows lightly, moving the phone a bit away.

"I just called Lucy, and she had no idea you went out!"

"Bryan, I..."

I was about to explain when Vincent takes the phone from me.