The conference room had erupted into chaos the moment Olivia collapsed.
"Olivia!" someone shouted, but Aiden was already there — faster than anyone could react, catching her before she could hit the floor. Her body was limp in his arms, her skin frighteningly warm to the touch.
"Call the doctor, now," he ordered sharply, voice cutting through the noise like a blade. Without waiting for anyone else to move, he adjusted her in his arms and strode out of the room. The meeting, the clients, the panicked employees — all faded into the background.
Right now, nothing mattered except her.
He took her straight to the rest area — a small, private suite tucked behind the boardroom floor. Setting her gently on the narrow bed meant for short breaks, he brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face. Her skin glistened with a faint sheen of sweat, her breathing shallow but steady.
Aiden's chest tightened. He'd seen her handle impossible deadlines, navigate chaos, and stand unshaken in front of boardrooms full of billionaires. But now, seeing her like this — fragile, pale, unconscious — it unnerved him in a way he hadn't expected.
A soft knock came at the door. The company doctor hurried in with a small kit.
Aiden stepped aside but didn't move far, watching every motion with tense precision.
The doctor checked her pulse, temperature, and eyes before giving a small, reassuring smile. "It's just a high fever, Mr. Ashford. Her body's exhausted — she's been pushing herself too hard. She needs rest, hydration, and medication. Nothing serious, but she shouldn't work for at least a few days."
Aiden's voice was low but edged with worry. "Why did she faint then?"
"Overexertion and fever combined," the doctor replied calmly, writing a prescription. "It's quite common among workaholics."
Aiden let out a slow breath, half relief, half frustration. "Thank you, Doctor."
"She'll wake up in a few hours. Give her this when she does." The doctor handed him a small packet of medicine.
Aiden looked down at Olivia, a flicker of emotion in his eyes. "Okay," he said quietly. "Thank You."
When the doctor left, silence settled in the room — a heavy, thoughtful silence. Aiden sat on the stool beside the bed, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on her peaceful but flushed face. His laptop lay open in front of him, but his gaze kept wandering back to her.
Outside, the office returned to its rhythm. But inside this quiet room, time seemed to pause.
Two hours later, a soft groan broke the silence.
Olivia stirred, blinking against the dim light. Her head felt heavy, and her throat was dry. The ceiling looked unfamiliar, sterile — definitely not her apartment, or the hotel.
Where… am I?
She turned her head, wincing slightly, and her blurry vision slowly cleared. Aiden was there — sitting on a chair beside her, laptop on his lap, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. The glow from the screen lit his face in soft silver, sharp features softened by focus.
She blinked, startled. "Aiden…?"
He looked up immediately, snapping the laptop shut. Relief flashed across his face, and he was on his feet in an instant.
"You're awake," he said quickly, stepping closer. "Are you feeling okay? Any dizziness? Pain?"
Olivia blinked again, trying to sit up. Her voice was groggy. "I… I'm fine, I think."
He reached out instinctively, one hand behind her back, the other steadying her shoulder. "Easy," he murmured, helping her sit up. He poured some water and handed her the glass. "Drink slowly."
She obeyed, taking small sips. Her mind was still foggy, but the concern etched on his face was impossible to ignore.
"Where are we?" she asked softly.
"The rest area in the office," Aiden said. His tone was calm but tight with residual tension. "You fainted in the meeting. The doctor said it's just a fever — probably from overworking yourself again."
Olivia frowned, lowering her gaze. "Oh."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Aiden crossed his arms, his expression shifting — still gentle, but firmer now.
"Olivia Bennett," he began, voice low, "you are the most stubborn, self-sacrificing person I have ever met."
She blinked up at him, unsure whether to feel scolded or complimented.
He continued, pacing slowly. "You take care of every single detail, every deadline, every person in this company — except yourself. You knew you weren't feeling well, didn't you?"
Olivia's lips pressed into a thin line. "…Maybe a little."
"A little?" he echoed, incredulous. "You fainted, Olivia!"
Her shoulders slumped slightly. She looked down like a child being chastised. "I didn't think it was serious. I thought it was just tiredness."
He exhaled heavily, rubbing his temples. "You can't just 'think' when it comes to your health. You can't keep neglecting yourself like this."
She nodded quietly. "I know."
Aiden sighed, the frustration in his voice softening. "You scared everyone. You scared me."
That made her look up. His eyes met hers — steady, serious, the concern there unfiltered. Something warm twisted in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"Don't apologize. Just… take care of yourself next time," he said, his voice gentler now.
Olivia nodded again. "I will. I promise it won't happen again."
He studied her for a long second, then nodded. "Good. Can you walk?"
She arched an eyebrow, trying to muster her usual sass despite the fatigue. "I have a fever, Aiden, not broken legs."
He gave her a look — that quiet, raised-eyebrow Ashford glare that said he wasn't in the mood.
Olivia immediately shut her mouth. "…Okay, fair point."
"Come on," he said, grabbing his jacket and helping her stand. "You need rest — proper rest. We're going back to the hotel."
The drive back was quiet. Olivia leaned against the car seat, exhaustion pulling at her limbs. Aiden occasionally glanced her way, making sure she hadn't dozed off completely. She looked pale but peaceful, and something in his chest eased slightly seeing her like that — safe, breathing, beside him.
When they reached the hotel, Olivia didn't even protest. She went straight to the bed and sank into the pillows, sighing.
"You should eat something," Aiden said, checking his watch. "I'll go get you some soup and medicine. Don't sleep yet, alright?"
Olivia mumbled a soft "okay" and closed her eyes anyway.
Aiden gave her a look, shook his head, and left.
When he returned fifteen minutes later, he found exactly what he'd expected — Olivia curled under the blanket, fast asleep. Her face was flushed from fever, and a strand of hair stuck to her cheek.
He set the tray of food and medicine on the table quietly, then walked over to her side. His hand brushed over her forehead — too warm.
"Olivia," he said softly, tapping her shoulder.
She stirred faintly.
"Come on, you need to eat something," he coaxed. "Then you can sleep again."
She murmured something incoherent and tried to burrow deeper into the blanket.
Aiden sighed, exasperated but amused. "You really don't make it easy, do you?"
He slipped an arm under her back, gently lifting her. Olivia leaned limply against him, half-asleep, her head resting against his chest. He steadied her and brought the spoon to her lips.
"Just a little," he said, voice low, almost tender. "Then you can rest."
She obeyed in sleepy silence, eating a few spoonfuls of soup, eyes barely open. When she swallowed the medicine, she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "thank you."
Aiden smiled faintly and lay her back down, tucking the blanket around her shoulders. Her breathing evened out almost immediately.
He sat there for a long time, just watching her sleep. Every so often, he dipped a towel into a bowl of cold water and placed it gently on her forehead, brushing away stray strands of hair.
The hours slipped by quietly. Outside, the city buzzed. Inside, the room was filled only with the sound of her breathing.
By morning, the fever had finally broken.
Olivia stirred awake, the first thing she saw being the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. She sat up slowly — her head clearer, her body lighter. Something slipped off her lap and fell softly onto the blanket.
A towel.
She blinked and looked to the nightstand — a bowl of water sat there, half empty, and beside it… Aiden.
He was slumped in the chair beside her bed, head tilted awkwardly to the side, arms crossed loosely over his chest. He'd clearly fallen asleep while sitting upright.
The position looked painfully uncomfortable.
Olivia's gaze softened.
She picked up the towel again, realization dawning. Someone had been taking care of her. Putting cool cloths on her forehead through the night. Making sure her fever went down.
Her heart ached, a warmth blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the fever.
Aiden Ashford — the man known for his control, his distance, his ruthless professionalism — had spent the whole night caring for her.
She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Idiot," she whispered, eyes warm with something more than gratitude. "You didn't have to."
Somewhere between the chaos of deadlines and the accidental mornings tangled in sheets, something between them had quietly changed.
And she wasn't sure she wanted it to go back.