Chapter 4

Penelope’s POV

The silence in the room was deafening. I sat on the hospital bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of me that suddenly looked so interesting to me.

My body felt heavy, like a weight was pressing me down, but nothing could compare to the crushing void inside my chest.

I’m feeling so empty— Like something had left me the moment I discovered my father couldn’t make it out of this cruel hospital alive!

I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. There were no more tears left.

“Miss Lorenzo,” the deep voice broke into my thoughts and the silence of the room, pulling me out of my trance.

I turned my head slightly, barely registering the man standing by the door. Brayden Giovanni. The stranger who brought me here, who claimed to have hit me with his car. I didn’t care who he was. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

I let out a bitter laugh, hollow and lifeless. “Am I okay?” I repeated, shaking my head. “What kind of question is that?”

He stepped closer, his gray eyes watching me intently. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“A lot?” I echoed, staring at him now. “I’ve lost everything. My father…” My voice cracked, but I refused to break down. “He was all I had. And now he’s gone.”

Brayden didn’t respond immediately. His silence only made the ache in my chest worse.

“I’m all alone in this world,” I whispered, looking back at the blank wall. “No one to turn to. Nowhere to go. Nothing to hold on to.”

His footsteps echoed as he walked closer, stopping a few feet from my bed. “You’re not alone.”

I scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter. “Don’t pretend you care. You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, his voice steady. “I don’t know you. But I know enough.”

I frowned, glancing at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“My assistant looked into your situation,” he said, his tone direct. “Your father’s medical history, your struggles, your attempts to do the right thing despite everything working against you. You’re a fighter, Miss Lorenzo.”

His words stung, not because they were untrue, but because they reminded me of how hard I’d tried—and how much I’d lost.

“I tried,” I murmured, my voice trembling. “I really tried. I did everything I could to save him. I begged, I pleaded…” My hands clenched the blanket on my lap. “And it wasn’t enough. Nothing I do is ever enough.”

Brayden’s gaze never wavered. His presence was overwhelming, but oddly, it didn’t feel suffocating. It felt… grounding.

“You did more than most would,” he said quietly.

“And look where it got me,” I replied, my voice cold. “He’s gone. I have no family. No job. No home. Nothing.”

I looked up at him, anger and despair swirling in my chest. “Do you know what that feels like? To lose everything? To be left with nothing but emptiness?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes softened—just a fraction—as if he understood more than he let on.

“I’ve lost things,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than before. “Not the same way you have, but loss is something I know well.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t want to. Talking felt like reopening a wound that refused to heal.

After a long pause, he spoke again. “Miss Lorenzo, this is partially my fault.”

I blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“I hit you with my car,” he said bluntly, his tone filled with certainty. “If I hadn’t… maybe you wouldn’t have been hurt. Maybe you would’ve had more time to be with your father.”

I stared at him, his words hitting me like a tidal wave. I didn’t know what to say.

“I can’t undo what’s happened,” he continued, “but I can try to make things right.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Make things right? How exactly do you plan to do that?”

“I’ll settle all the hospital bills,” he said without hesitation. “Your father’s. Yours. Everything.”

His words stunned me into silence. For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him.

“What?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“You won’t have to worry about the expenses,” he said firmly. “It’s the least I can do.”

I shook my head, the weight of his words sinking in. “Why would you do that? What do you want in return?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his voice steady. “I take responsibility for my actions.”

I stared at him, searching for any hint of deception. But his expression was unreadable behind that mask, his gray eyes unwavering.

“And there’s more,” he added.

My brows furrowed. “More?”

“I’m offering you a job.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

“A job?” I repeated, my voice filled with disbelief. How could I just believe everyone after all I’ve experienced?

“Yes,” he said simply.

I blinked at him, unsure if I’d heard correctly. “You’re offering me… a job?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his gaze not leaving my face.

I turned to fully face him, my mind racing. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“That’s a discussion for another time,” he said, his tone firm.

I didn’t know whether to be grateful, suspicious, or outright angry. My life was already in shambles, and now this stranger—this imposing, enigmatic man—was offering me a lifeline.

I looked away, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and doubt.

Brayden Giovanni’s POV

I watched her, waiting for her response. Penelope Lorenzo was unlike anyone I’d ever met. Despite her brokenness, there was a fire in her, a resilience that drew me in.

Her hesitation was expected. She’d been through hell, and trust didn’t come easily.

But I was a man of my word. I always followed through. And now, I had set something in motion that neither of us could stop.

“Do you accept?” I asked, breaking the silence.

Her head snapped up, her wide eyes filled with questions she wasn’t ready to ask.