13 William Bailey was hospitalized three days after my return to Northbrook. The news came during a tense breakfast-the first real meal Lucas and I had shared since my return. We'd been carefully circling each other, both aware that a conversation about our future was inevitable but neither willing to initiate it. Lucas's phone rang just as I was pouring my second cup of coffee. His expression transformed as he listene to the caller, all color draining from his face. "When?" he asked, already standing, reaching for his jacket. "Which hospital? I'm on my way." I set my cup down. "What happened?" "My grandfather," Lucas said, his voice tight with controlled emotion. "Stroke. They're taking him to St. Vincent's now." Without thinking, I stood as well. "I'll come with you." Lucas paused, looking momentarily surprised by my offer. Then he nodded, gratitude flashing in his eyes. The drive to the hospital was silent, tension hanging between us despite the shared concern. When we arrived, the emergency department was already in motion-doctors in white coats moving purposefully, nurses coordinating care with practiced efficiency. Margaret Bailey sat alone in the family waiting room, her normally impeccable appearance slightly dishevele her hands trembling as she clutched her handbag. 'Lucas," she said when she saw us, rising unsteadily. "Thank God you're here." Lucas embraced her gently. "How is he?" 'They're doing tests." Her voice wavered. "The doctor said it was a massive stroke. They don't know yet if..." She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. hung back, uncertain of my place in this family crisis. But Margaret's eyes found me over Lucas's shoulder. 'Autumn," she said, extending a hand toward me. "You came." The simple acknowledgment brought an unexpected lump to my throat. I moved forward, taking her outstretched hand. 'Of course." The next several hours passed in a blur of medical updates, phone calls to family members, and hushed conversations with doctors. William Bailey was stable but critical, they said. The next forty-eight hours would De crucial. Lucas handled everything with a calm efficiency that impressed even the most seasoned hospital staff. He spoke with doctors, coordinated with specialists, made decisions when Margaret was too overwhelmed to do 30. It was as if he'd been preparing his whole life for this moment-the moment when he would step into his grandfather's shoes. By evening, William had been moved to the ICU, and visiting was restricted to immediate family only. Margaret insisted on staying, so Lucas and I returned to the penthouse to gather some essentials for her Overnight stay. As we entered, the emptiness of the space seemed to emphasize the gravity of what was happening. William Bailey had always seemed invincible-a force of nature rather than a mortal man. The possibility of losing hir cast everything else in a different light. 'I should go back," Lucas said, pacing the living room after we'd packed Margaret's overnight bag. "She shouldn't be alone." The doctors said there's nothing more to be done tonight," I reminded him gently. "You need rest too." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognized as a sign of deep stress. "I can't just sit here while he's _" Lucas." I stepped in front of him, stopping his pacing. "You won't help anyone by exhausting yourself. Eat something. Sleep for a few hours. Then go back in the morning." He looked at me, really looked at me, for the first time since I'd returned from Riverdale. "Why are you doing his?" 'Doing what?" Being kind. After everything... after what you said on the phone." sighed, moving away to put some distance between ùs. "Whatever is happening between us doesn't change the fact that your grandfather is ill. I wouldn't withhold support during a family crisis just because we're having problems." Lucas studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Thank you." I ordered food while he showered, and we ate in silence at the kitchen island. The normalcy of the activity felt strange after weeks of avoidance and tension. "You should try to sleep," I said when he'd finished pushing food around his plate more than eating it. "I'll wake you if there's any news." He hesitated, then nodded, too exhausted to argue. "Will you..." he began, then stopped, seeming to reconsider. "Will I what?" "Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Goodnight, Autumn." I watched him disappear down the hallway to the master bedroom, fighting the urge to follow, to comfort him in the way a real wife would. Instead, I cleaned up the kitchen and settled on the sofa with my tablet, Chapter 1 The Bailey Patriarch reviewing designs for the Blackwell project while I waited for updates from the hospital. I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, sunlight was streaming through the windows and my phone was buzzing with a text from Margaret. [William is awake. Asking for Lucas.] I hurried to the master bedroom, knocking lightly before entering. Lucas was already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed in just his pajama bottoms, staring at his own phone. "He's awake," I said, holding up my phone to show Margaret's message. Lucas nodded. "I just got the same text." He stood, reaching for a shirt. "I'll be ready in ten minutes." We arrived at the hospital to find William conscious but weak, his normally commanding presence diminishe by the hospital bed and the various machines monitoring his condition. Margaret sat beside him, holding his hand with a tenderness I'd never witnessed between them before. "Lucas," William said, his voice raspy but still carrying that note of authority that had shaped Lucas's entire life. "About time you showed up." Despite everything, I had to suppress a smile. Even at death's door, William Bailey remained William Bailey. 'How are you feeling, Grandfather?" Lucas asked, moving to the bedside. 'Like I've been hit by a truck," William replied dryly. "But I'm not dead yet, despite what some might hope." Lucas's jaw tightened. We all knew who "some" referred to-his uncles and cousins, who'd been conspicuously absent from the hospital despite being notified of William's condition. 'The doctors say you're stable," Lucas said. "But you need to rest." William waved a dismissive hand. "I've been resting for twelve hours. What I need is to make sure my company doesn't fall apart while I'm stuck in this bed." He fixed Lucas with a penetrating stare. "The board will be meeting today. Emergency session to discuss contingency plans' in my absence." The contempt in his voice made it clear what he thought of those plans. 'You need to be there." Lucas hesitated. "I should stay here with you and Grandmother." 'Nonsense," William snapped. "I've got doctors and nurses hovering over me, and your grandmother hasn't lef my side." His expression softened slightly as he glanced at Margaret. "I don't need you holding my hand. I need you protecting what's ours." The gravity of the moment wasn't lost on anyone in the room. This was it-the moment William had been preparing Lucas for his entire life. The transfer of power, accelerated by circumstance. Lucas straightened, his posture shifting subtly as he accepted the mantle being passed to him. "I understand." 'Good." William's eyes moved to me, standing quietly near the door. "Autumn will stay with your grandmother.' t wasn't a request. I nodded, moving further into the room. 'Now go," William commanded. "And Lucas? Don't let them see any weakness." Lucas left immediately, pausing only to squeeze my hand briefly as he passed. I settled into a chair near Margaret, prepared for a long day of waiting. But William had other plans. 'Margaret," he said after Lucas had gone, "why don't you get us some decent coffee? This hospital swill is going to kill me faster than the stroke." Margaret looked surprised but rose obediently. "I'll see what I can find. Autumn, would you like anything?" No, thank you," I replied, sensing that William wanted to speak with me alone. Once Margaret had left, William beckoned me closer. "Sit," he commanded, indicating the chair his wife had /acated. complied, studying the man who had orchestrated my marriage to his grandson. Despite his illness, his eyes emained sharp, missing nothing. My grandson," he began without preamble, "has always been too sharp-edged for his own good. Brilliant but cold. Too much like me, I suppose." A hint of pride colored his admission. "But with you around, I can rest easier. You're a good girl, and I trust you completely." pressed my lips together, uncertain how to respond. This man had used me as a pawn in his dynastic chess Jame, yet here he was, speaking to me with something approaching genuine affection. William chuckled at my silence. "It's been a long time since he last went to see that woman, hasn't it?" froze. "You..." William let out a dismissive huff. "He thinks he's hidden it so well, but I've known for ages. That girl's too roud, too unsteady. If she stays with him, trouble's bound to happen sooner or later." felt momentarily disoriented. So, in the end, William had known about Phoebe all along. I'd assumed Lucas had kept their relationship secret from his grandparents, that our marriage was partly a way to prevent them from discovering his attachment to someone they would consider unsuitable. But William had known. And still insisted on our marriage. I thought for a moment and decided there was no point in hiding anything anymore. 'Lucas and I, we're planning to-" William cut me off with a wave of his hand. "Take your time. As the days go by, he'll come to see your worth. Besides, haven't you liked him for a long time?" I let out a small gasp, stunned by his insight. Chapter 1 The Bailey Patriarch He reminisced for a moment, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "When Lucas was in high school, he injured his leg playing basketball and took half a month off. You came to our house every day to bring him his homework." My heart stuttered in my chest. I'd almost forgotten those visits-the nervous anticipation as I'd approach th imposing Bailey Estate, the careful excuses I'd make about having notes Lucas needed. "Later, when your father brought you to Bailey Estate for the initial marriage discussions, I recognized you at first glance, my dear girl." In that instant, for no reason at all, hot tears welled up in my eyes. "William." So that's how it was. No wonder he'd picked me out right away and visited my home in person time and time again, insisting on this particular alliance despite my father's initial reservations. William Bailey might be manipulative and controlling, but in his own way, he'd tried to give his grandson something he thought would make him happy-someone who genuinely cared for him. Not long after, William fell asleep. Margaret returned with coffee, and we sat together in companionable silence, watching over the Bailey patriarch as he rested. Hours passed. Nurses came and went. Doctors checked in. And still no word from Lucas. It wasn't until evening that my phone finally buzzed with a message from him. [It's done. I'm in control now. How is he?] I typed back: [Stable. Sleeping mostly. Margaret is still here.] [I'll be there soon.] When Lucas arrived at the hospital room, the transformation was striking. He'd always carried himself with confidence, but now there was something more-an air of absolute authority that hadn't been there before. I the span of a single day, he had stepped fully into his role as the heir to the Bailey empire. William was awake when Lucas entered, and even in his weakened state, he seemed to recognize the chang in his grandson. "Well?" he demanded. "The board has voted unanimously to appoint me as acting CEO during your recovery," Lucas reported. "Cousins James and Richard have been temporarily removed from their positions pending an audit of their divisions." A satisfied smile spread across William's pale face. "And your uncles?" "Uncle Robert tried to challenge the appointment. He's been outvoted and placed on administrative leave." William nodded, clearly pleased. "Good. You've done well." The simple praise seemed to affect Lucas more deeply than I would have expected. For a moment, I glimpse the boy beneath the man-the child who had grown up seeking approval from this formidable grandfather, rarely receiving it. I slipped out of the room to give them privacy, finding a quiet corner of the waiting area to collect my thoughts. Lucas joined me there a few minutes later, looking both exhausted and exhilarated. "How did you do it?" I asked. "In just one day?" He sat beside me, loosening his tie. "I've been preparing for this for years. Building alliances on the board, gathering evidence of my cousins' mismanagement, securing the loyalty of key executives." He ran a hand through his hair. "I just needed the opportunity." "And now you have it," I observed. Lucas nodded, studying me with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. "Yes. Now I have it." We sat in silence for a moment, the implication hanging between us. Lucas had achieved what he'd been working toward-control of Bailey Enterprises. According to our original agreement, this meant our marriage had served its purpose. 'Lucas," I began, uncertain how to broach the subject that had been hovering between us since my return from Riverdale. But before I could continue, he reached out, gently wiping something from the corner of my eye. A tear I hadn't realized was there. 'What do you feel like eating later?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender. The question was so mundane, so normal, that it caught me completely off guard. After everything-the photos with Phoebe, my flight to Riverdale, my suggestion of divorce, his grandfather's stroke and subsequer power shift-Lucas was asking me about dinner plans as if none of it had happened. stared at him, trying to decipher what this meant. Was he deliberately avoiding the difficult conversation we needed to have? Or was this his way of telling me he wasn't ready to let go yet? 'I don't know," I answered honestly. "I haven't thought about it." Lucas nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek before he withdrew his hand. "Let's go home. We can decide there." Home. Again, that word that carried so much weight, so much complexity. As we left the hospital, I couldn't help feeling that we'd reached a crossroads. Lucas had gotten what he wanted-control of the Bailey empire. I'd confronted the reality of our situation-that our marriage was built on temporary convenience rather than lasting love. The question now was whether either of us was ready to walk away. 3/3