Chapter 1
Miranda’s POV
My phone buzzed across the desk for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, but I didn’t have a second to spare. I was elbow-deep in files, typing, highlighting, signing, and rechecking paperwork as fast as I could.
It was my new boss’s first day at work, and I wasn’t about to give him a reason to think his assistant was anything less than perfect.
The buzz came again.
Irritated, I glanced down to silence it, but when I saw the name flashing on the screen.
My Dad.
I hesitated. He never called me this early. Instinct told me to pick it up, even if I was in a rush.
“Hey, Dad, I’m super swamped,” I answered, pinning my phone between my ear and shoulder as I scribbled a note. “Can I call you back in, like, ten?”
“Miranda, listen to me. It’s your grandfather.”
I rolled my eyes instinctively. “What about him? Don’t tell me he tried jogging again. You know he always exaggerates things—”
“He’s in the hospital.”
My pen stopped moving.
“What?”
“He collapsed last night,” Dad said, his voice grave. “He just lost consciousness and wouldn’t wake up. We rushed him to the ER. They ran tests all night. It’s… it’s bad, Miranda.”
My chest tightened. My breath hitched in my throat.
“What do you mean bad?”
“He’s got cancer. Pancreatic. It’s advanced. The doctor said he has around four months. Maybe less.”
I stood up so quickly my chair screeched against the floor. Papers fluttered to the ground, but I barely noticed.
“No. No, that—he was fine last week. He was arguing with me about moving back to New York!”
“I know,” Dad said, sighing. “He didn’t want anyone to worry. But now it’s serious. And he’s asking for you. He keeps repeating your name.”
I gripped the edge of my desk, trying to stop the room from spinning. “I’ll come home. Today. I’ll book a flight right now.”
“Please hurry,” he said. “He’s fading fast.”
“I’ll be there before nightfall,” I promised, my voice trembling.
I ended the call and just stood there for a second. My fingers trembled, and my heart pounded as the shock set in. Grandpa. Sick. Dying.
My favorite person in the entire world, the one man who never judged me, never doubted me, who always believed I was destined for more than this corporate maze, was dying.
But I couldn’t break down yet. I had a job to finish.
I sucked in a breath and forced my hands to move. I gathered the finished documents, everything I had prepped for the new CEO, and slipped them neatly into a leather folder.
I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. I didn’t even care. Family came first. But I had to at least drop off the reports.
Once everything was in order, I grabbed my bag, smoothed my blouse, and hurried out of my office, folder in hand.
My heels clicked down the hall as I made my way to the executive wing. I’d never actually met Jeremiah Aldridge, only seen him in the occasional news article or picture.
He’d been abroad for years, living his own high-profile life while his father ran the company. And now, with the elder Mr. Aldridge gone, he was back.
I reached his office door and hesitated. My heart thudded in my ears. This wasn’t how I’d imagined our first interaction. I’d hoped to impress him, show him I could be his right hand like I was to his father. Instead, I was about to vanish in the middle of his first day.
I knocked twice.
Silence.
I tried again. Still nothing.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Just drop it off. In and out.”
I turned the knob and gently pushed the door open.
What I saw stopped me cold.
There, behind the desk, was a tall man with dark hair and a sharp jawline, Jeremiah. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie hanging loose, and his mouth was on a woman’s, his hand tangled in her hair.
She wore a tiny black dress, red stilettos, and even redder lipstick. Her leg was hiked up his thigh.
I froze.
The woman gasped. Jeremiah turned sharply.
His eyes locked on mine.
“What the hell!” he thundered. “Where are your manners?!”
I stood there, completely mortified, the folder clutched tightly in my hands. My mouth opened, but no words came out.
“I—I knocked,” I stammered, finally finding my voice. “Twice. I didn’t hear anything—”
“You think that gives you the right to just barge in?” His voice was cold, commanding.
“I’m sorry, I—I just needed to drop this off,” I said, holding out the folder like a shield. “I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
The woman scrambled to adjust her dress and turned away, and I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
He looked at me like he just remembered something. Then he asked. “Who the hell are you?!”
