The Forced Marriage: The Journey Begins

Chapter Twenty

Damien was out of his seat in an instant, he knew immediately what was happening. "Anaphylaxis," he barked, his voice cutting through the restaurant's ambiance like a sword.

He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her towards the exit, ignoring the gasps and stares of the other diners. The valet was quick to bring his car around, and he practically threw her into the passenger seat before peeling out of the parking lot.
The city streets blurred around them, the neon lights flashing like a strobe in a restaurant as he sped towards the nearest emergency room.

In the hospital, Damien felt utterly helpless as the medical staff worked on Sarah. Her face was pale and swollen, her eyes closed.

He had seen the panic in her eyes, and it had shaken him to the core.The doctor came out, his expression grim. "Mr. Ross, we've administered the epinephrine. She'll be okay, but she needs to rest."Damien nodded, his heart still racing.

He had caught her just in time. The memory of her face, swollen and desperate, was seared into his mind. He had underestimated her, that much was clear. Her innocence in the face of the world's harsh realities had been a refreshing change, but now he realized it was also a liability.

As the doctor disappeared behind the swinging doors, he leaned against the cool wall, his mind racing. He thought back over the day's events—from their tense meeting at the office to the strange case at the mansion.

Sarah had handled it all with a poise that had surprised him, but now he saw the cracks in her armor.Her innocence had been a refreshing change of pace in the cutthroat world of high-stakes law, but it had also made her vulnerable.

He had underestimated her, assuming she could handle the pressure and the games that came with the job. Now, he couldn't help but wonder if he had thrown her into the deep end without giving her a proper float.

The hospital lights buzzed overhead, casting a stark glow on the sterile white walls. The smell of antiseptic and the distant wail of an ambulance siren filled the air.

Damien waited, pacing back and forth, his thoughts racing faster than the seconds ticking away on the clock.

Sarah stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked, trying to adjust to the harsh light, and took in the sight of Damien's figure, silhouetted against the doorway.

He looked weary, his usually impeccable suit rumpled, and his tie loosened."You're awake," he said, his voice gruff from sleep.

Sarah nodded, her throat still sore from the night's ordeal. "Thank you," she murmured, taking the cup of water from him.

Damien's eyes searched hers, looking for something she wasn't quite sure she wanted to give. "Why didn't you tell me you had an allergy?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger.

Sarah looked down at her lap, her cheeks reddening. "I... I didn't want to seem weak," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Weak?" Damien's voice was incredulous.

"Miss Harris, your willingness to push through despite your condition was anything but weak. But failing to communicate such a critical detail was reckless," he said, his tone stern.

Sarah flinched, his words hitting her like a slap. She knew she had made a mistake, but she had her own pride.

"I'm sorry," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien's expression softened slightly. "Look at me," he said, his voice firm but no longer harsh.

She met his gaze, her eyes swollen from the adrenaline rush and the subsequent reaction.

"You better use your brain next time and not push yourself," he said, his voice low and intense.

Sarah nodded, feeling the weight of his words. She knew he was right. She had been so focused on proving herself that she had ignored her own safety.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice shaking. "It won't happen again."

Damien's eyes searched hers, looking for any signs of defiance or regret. He found neither. Only a determination that matched his own.

"Good," he said, his voice still firm.