The day had been overwhelmingly stressful for Davis. He hadn’t just met with his security team, but also gathered in-depth reports and critical intelligence from his most trusted aides which he had kept at bay because he lost his leg.
Though, he never thought he would made met them in a wheelchair but after the visit, he was relieved and happy. He discovered his sitting on the wheelchair never stopped him from anything.
Each conversation and report pointing back to the layers of the storm brewing around him. Though, he was gradually picking up the scattered pieces of his life, he was not reckless. Every step he took was cautious. The betrayal and hidden dangers from within his family had taught him to tread carefully—never to trust blindly again and never to let his guard down despite the responsibilities.
That evening as they returned back to their room, Jessica noticed the fatigue etched across Davis’s face.
Without needing to be asked, she guided him through a short but effective therapy session—focusing on his tense shoulders and aching legs.
Once done, she helped him into the bathroom to freshen up. The water seemed to wash away some of his burdens as he felt himself rejuvenated. Soon after, they settled down to enjoy a quiet, warm dinner in their room just the two of them.
Jessica cleared the table after the meal, swiftly arranging the plates and utensils before returning to the room.
She intended to change into something more comfortable for the night, but just as she passed by, Davis reached out and gently pulled her to him. Caught by surprise, her hand flailed in the air as if to grasp something—but there was nothing. Yet, she didn’t fall. His strong arms steadied her, positioning her softly on his lap.
Her hands rested on his shoulders for balance while his hands wrapped firmly around her waist, keeping her close. Slowly, he lowered his head and pressed soft, feather-light kisses against her lips. His touch trailed from her lips to her jawline, then down to her neck and shoulder. Her breath hitched, coming in a quick gasps as his touch seems to kindle her nerves lighting them with flames only him can extinguish. Though his day had been long and exhausting, he realized just how much he’d missed her presence.
Despite the exhaustion he felt from his long day, Davis had missed her deeply. Most days, Jessica would go out while Davis remained indoors, waiting for her return.
Sometimes they went out together, mostly her functions and always came back side by side. But today had been different. He had been away—without her. And the distance had only deepened his longing.
Looking at her face now, a face he had yearned to see, his heart eased. It felt good coming home after a long journey meeting the only one that makes your heart beat .
"Overworked?" he asked softly, his fingers intertwining with hers. He began tracing the lines of her palm, gently massaging her fingers with care. He wouldn’t doubt if he returned and met her still working on the sketch.
Jessica let out a light sigh. "Not really," she muttered. "I’ve just been thinking a lot about Grandpa."
Her worry was genuine. As a doctor, she had accessed his detailed reports and also treated him and is very clear about the old man’s health, and from the data, it was clear that some of his vital indicators were slipping beyond controllable limits. She knew something had to be done about it—perhaps after discussing it with Davis.
"What do you think we do?" she asked carefully, her eyes scanning his face. "We can’t expect Desmond to care," she continued before Davis could answer. "And Alfred can’t keep doing it all alone. It’s too much for him."
Davis nodded. He understood her concern. Alfred had been loyal and dependable, but even he needed rest. Davis also believed that Alfred’s return home could serve as a strategic move—he could keep an eye on things from within. But as Jessica pointed out, someone had to be there to ease the old man’s burden and provide emotional support.
Visiting the hospital was risky—too many eyes, too many questions.
"Let it stay the way you arranged it," Davis finally said, rubbing his temples. "Let the hospital take charge of his treatment. Your team can handle his care and protection while we focus on the other fires around us."
Before Jessica could respond, Davis’s phone buzzed on the side table. He leaned over, picked it up, and answered. Ethan’s voice came through the speaker, calm but firm.
"Sir, I found something—about the incident from years ago." He relayed.
Davis immediately tensed. "The results?" he asked, his grip tightening slightly on Jessica’s shoulder dreading the possible outcome of the result.
Sensing the shift in his demeanor, Jessica turned her gaze toward him, her hand patting his shoulders to calm him down.
"As you suspected," Ethan said, "it was all staged. Your father’s death—and your kidnapping along with your sister—it was all planned."
Davis froze. His breathing grew heavier. He had been scared of the result of he will get through this investigation but never expected it to align with his fears.
"The report confirms that your parents had just finished a business meeting when they got an anonymous call warning them about the kidnapping. In their panic, they rushed back to the country to pay the ransom. But... they never made it. The accident they had—it wasn’t an accident. It was a setup."
Davis’s voice dropped to a near whisper. "Staged?" "The Kidnap?" A memory he never likes visiting.
"Yes," Ethan confirmed. "Just like yours."
There was a long pause. Jessica reached for Davis’s hand, holding it tightly.
"I’ll send you the full report to your phone," Ethan added. "As for suspects, we haven’t found anyone concrete yet. But we’re focusing on possible links inside the Allen family before widening the search."
Davis nodded slowly. "Alright."
His hands clenched into fists. The air seemed heavier around him. His mind was reeling as old memories returned—painful ones. The kidnapping. The grief. The shattered image of his parents’ car. The funeral. The silence that followed. Each thought struck him like a wave crashing violently against a brittle shore.
He had tried—again and again—to convince himself it was all in the past. That the hurt would fade. But it hadn’t. And now, knowing it had all been orchestrated made it worse. It reopened wounds he had buried deep, his eyes burned as he remembered the only memento—his mother’s smile. Jiiu9
Jessica, sensing his turmoil, moved closer and gently rubbed his back. "Hey," she whispered. "What are you doing to yourself?"
Davis looked up, his eyes raw with emotion. "Jessica... they were murdered. Not by fate or misfortune. It was deliberate. Why would anyone want them dead?"
His voice cracked slightly. "They worked tirelessly to build the Allen Group. If there’s any motive, it must be tied to the company or the family itself."
Jessica reached out and cupped his face in her hands. "I know it hurts," she said, her voice soft yet steady. "But don’t drown in sorrow. You can’t undo the past, Davis. But you can prevent the future from repeating it."
He stared at her, eyes heavy. "Prevent the future?"
She nodded, her expression serious. "Think about it. If someone planned that accident, and your own incident was staged too, who’s to say they won’t try again? Desmond and George Brown may be holding back now, but they won’t forever. They’ve considered it—you know it. They just haven’t had the guts to go through with it."
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So what do you suggest?"
"Simple," she replied. "Plan ahead. Strategize. Cast your net and catch them all at once—"
She didn’t get to finish. Davis leaned in and kissed her deeply. It was passionate, full of unspoken emotion.
Jessica felt her memory refreshed, may be she had never really known Davis. When he finally let her breathe, She glared at him angrily "what, you don’t glare at me. Besides, I only accepted your idea isn’t it better?" He smirked mischievously.
Jessica rubbed her temple in resignation. "I really can’t win against you." She murmured.
"Join me on a business trip?" he whispered lightly.
Jessica blinked. "Business trip? When? Where?"
"In three days. Norevia."
She frowned. "I’ve got an upcoming event. You know I’ve been planning it for weeks."
"Please," he said, his voice low and persuasive. "This husband will miss you terribly. And... it’s not just a trip. It’s an opportunity."
Jessica narrowed her eyes. "Davis Allen, talk with your mouth, not with your hands," she snapped as she pushed his roaming fingers away.
He chuckled. "So that’s a yes?"
She sighed. "Why Norevia though?"
"I need to visit the Allen Group branch there. Desmond shut it down without cause. It’s the most profitable branch we had. There’s something deeper going on, and I intend to find out."
Jessica nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. She opened her mouth to ask more, but Davis pulled her into a tight embrace, his hand slipping around her waist once more.
Jessica sighed resignedly. The night stretched long in a mix of warmth.