Chapter 19 A Jealous Mistress
Christian left his office in the evening. It was already seven. His strides were quick, urgent, as he headed straight for his car.
Fishing his phone from his pocket, he dialed Samuel. "Where are you? Have you dropped Ivy home yet?"
Samuel’s voice on the other end was slightly tense. "Mr. Evans, I arrived at her office, but the staff said she left for home an hour ago. When I called the mansion, the maids said she hasn’t arrived yet. I’m not sure if she went elsewhere or if something happened."
Christian’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. His body tense, his forehead creased.
"Find her location. Right now," he barked before starting the car and driving out without a second thought.
There was only one route from her office to the mansion. Ivy never took dark, dangerous shortcuts—she always stuck to the main roads. His mind raced as he drove, his fingers dialing her number.
She didn’t pick up.
He called again.
Still no answer.
His heart pounded as he scanned the road, his gaze darting around in worry.
And then, he spotted it—a white car speeding down the road. His stomach twisted as he caught a glimpse of Ivy in the driver’s seat.
He immediately turned the car and sped toward her, redialing her number.
This time, she answered.
"Ivy," he said instantly, his voice sharp with urgency. "Stop the goddamn car. Why are you driving so fast?"
But her voice on the other end wasn’t steady. It was scared.
"Christian…" she breathed, her voice breaking as she struggled to control the steering wheel. "My brakes aren’t working."
Christian’s entire body stiffened. His breath caught in his throat, his hands clenching the wheel.
Every fear he had ever known was nothing compared to what he felt in that moment.
"Ivy, don’t cut off the call," he commanded, his voice firm. "Take a right from here and drive straight."
She did as he said, turning onto the road ahead. The traffic had thinned, but her breathing was still ragged, her voice trembling.
"Christian, I’m so tired," she whispered. "The car won’t stop. I can’t control it anymore. The speed keeps increasing."
"Don’t be scared. I will take care of you," Christian said, his voice strong, steady—making her believe every word.
But the speed of her car continued to rise, her heartbeat thundering in her chest.
Then, suddenly, another car raced past her, overtaking her in an instant. It swerved in front of her and stopped sideways, blocking the road ahead.
Christian’s car.
He skidded his car to a stop a few miles ahead, blocking the road.
Her eyes widened in horror.
"What are you doing? Get out of the way!" Ivy shouted, her panic rising.
"Ivy, listen to me," Christian said, his voice impossibly calm. "Ram your car into the back of mine. It’ll be okay. I’ll shield you from the impact."
"No!" she snapped. "Christian, move out of the way! I’m not hitting you!"
If she crashed into him, he’d take the impact instead of her. He would be the one getting hurt.
But Christian didn’t move.
The car sped closer, seconds from impact, yet the stubborn man stood his ground. He refused to let her crash, even if it meant getting hurt himself.
At the last second, she yanked the wheel, swerving hard to the side.
But the road ahead was blocked. A solid wall loomed in her path.
And just as she braced for the crash—Christian’s car slammed into the back of hers.
The impact sent both cars skidding. Metal crunched, tires screeched, glass shattered.
She didn’t hit the wall.
Christian had slammed into the back of her car at the last second, forcing it to turn—taking control when she couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her crash. Wouldn’t let her get hurt.
Even if it meant wrecking himself in the process.
And when everything settled, amidst the wreckage, there were two cars.
Two people.
And blood everywhere.
***
“Christian?!” Ivy's eyes snapped open, a sharp pain shooting through her head. The buried scream from the accident—the sight of him ramming into her car—seemed to finally break free from her lips.
She looked around frantically. The sterile white walls, the faint beeping of machines—she was in a hospital. Her body ached, wrapped in bandages. Hospital clothes covered her bruised skin, and she could feel the scratch marks on her neck.
Hearing her voice, Celia jumped to her feet and rushed to her bedside. “Hey, I’m here. It’s alright.”
"Where is Christian?" Ivy demanded, scrambling out of the bed despite the pain shooting through her body. She didn’t care. "Where is he?"
"Ivy!" Celia grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her back onto the bed. "He's fine. He’s safe."
Ivy’s breath hitched. "He’s safe?" she repeated, her voice breaking.
Celia nodded, worry knitting her brows. "He’s hurt, but he’s alright. The doctors brought both of you out of surgery three hours ago. I checked on him—he's okay."
Ivy took a deep, shuddering breath, her heart still hammering but slowly easing. The nightmare of the accident had felt too real, suffocating her only moments ago.
But before Ivy could fully process Celia’s words, the door burst open, and Larry walked in.
It had been five years since Ivy had last seen him. He was Christian’s friend, and though they’d had a bit of a small talk once, she hadn’t seen him since Christian left the country. Larry had never returned to the office after that. He’d only come there for Christian, and with him gone, Ivy hadn’t crossed paths with Larry again. Until now.
"Ivy, I need you to come with me," Larry said urgently, grabbing her hand and pulling her.
Celia immediately intervened, prying Larry’s grip off Ivy. "You need to stop! Does she look like she’s in any condition to see Christian right now? She’s all injured, for fuck’s sake!"
Larry ignored Celia completely and turned straight to Ivy. "He's out of his goddamn mind. He’s refusing the meds and insisting on leaving right now. Ivy, for the love of everything, after he risked his damn life for you, don’t you think you owe him at least this much?" His voice was thick with frustration.
Ivy tore free from Celia’s grip, pushing herself up despite the lingering pain. "Let’s go. I’ll come with you."
Larry wasted no time, leading her out of the room and straight into the one next to hers. Stopping outside, he pushed open the door and let Ivy walk in alone.
Christian was buttoning up his shirt, but at the sound of the door opening, his head jerked up, and he snapped, "Get the fu—" His words died the moment he saw her.
But for the first time, he didn’t smile at her.
He didn’t even look at her.
Instead, his jaw clenched, and his gaze shifted away, clearly upset. Without a word, he sat on the bed, turning his face from her.
"Christian?" she called, stepping further into the room.
He remained silent, his hands clenched on the bed.
Ivy exhaled slowly before walking around the bed, standing in front of him. She reached for his hand, gripping it in hers.
Only then did he lift his gaze to meet hers. His fingers instinctively tightened around her hand, his thumb brushing over her skin in a slow, absentminded stroke.
"Why didn’t you hit my car when I told you to?" he questioned, his voice low but laced with anger. "You were about to ram into a damn wall, Ivy."
"It was just the situation," she said softly. "Ramming into your car wasn’t an option for me."
His rage flared. "So you’d rather fucking die than let me help you?"
"No," she answered quietly. "I didn’t want to injure you."
As soon as the words left her lips, the fury in his eyes vanished, replaced by a flicker of surprise, as if he hadn’t even considered that possibility.
Without another word, he shot to his feet, pulling her into a fierce embrace. His hold was firm, almost desperate, his hand cradling the back of her head as he buried his face in the curve of her neck.
"There is nothing more important to me than you, Ivy," he murmured, his voice hot against her skin, trembling slightly. "So, please…" His grip tightened. "If something like this ever happens again, let me save you. Don’t worry about me. Just don’t even fucking think about me. Let me protect you. I will take care of you."
His warmth enveloped her, his words sinking into her heart.
After a long pause, Ivy exhaled softly. "Christian," she whispered, "I forgive you for what you did five years ago."
The words hit him like a punch. His fingers tightened on her shoulders, and he froze. His eyes searched hers, hurt and desperation clearly visible in his gaze.
"Ivy..." His voice broke, but she gently pulled away, getting up and walking out of the room.
Christian’s hands curled into fists, his jaw clenching as he watched her leave. Every part of him ached. Her words had cut through him, leaving a storm of emotions raging inside. The pain felt like it was tearing him apart. A wound bleeding through him.
The pain was unbearable, and yet, it only made him more determined.
He wasn’t going to lose her again. Not this time.
As the door slammed behind her, he turned away immediately, his heart clenching painfully.
A moment later, Sawyer stormed in, his face twisted with anger, but Christian barely noticed. His mind was consumed by the ache of Ivy’s words, the sharp sting of her rejection echoing through every part of him.
"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" he snapped. "Driving in front of her car just to block her from crashing, without a single damn care for your own life?!"
Christian remained unfazed, peeling off his shirt again to put on the hospital gown.
Since Ivy was going to stay in the hospital for another day or two, he had decided to stay as well. He wanted to be with her.
Sawyer marched up to him, his glare sharp enough to cut. "Goddamn it. When I got into an accident last year, the least you did was buy me a new fucking car as compensation for not showing up that day. And I’m your best friend!" He threw his hands up. "But for that girl, you throw your entire goddamn life on the line? Is that your idea of friendship?"
Christian scoffed, stretching back against the bed. "Stop acting like a jealous mistress."
Sawyer gritted his teeth. "One of these days, I will murder you in your sleep."
Christian ignored him and asked, "Did you find out what I asked for? Who tampered with Ivy’s car?"
Sawyer exhaled sharply, then handed his phone to Christian. "This chick," he muttered, the screen showing a photo of a woman. "She was jealous that Ivy got her own office and a good position right after joining. She’s been working in the same position in the company for five years. So, this idiot thought that injuring or killing Ivy would get her that promotion and she’ll replace Ivy."
Christian’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening with anger.
"Throw her in jail," he ordered coldly. "Put every damn charge on her that you can. Make sure she rots there."
Sawyer nodded. "Already done. Just confirming in case you wanted to handle it personally before we sent her away."
Christian shook his head. "I can’t let Ivy see that side of me. She’s my wife now. I can’t be careless." His voice dropped lower, lethal. "But put every goddamn case on that woman. Make sure she gets what she deserves."