Chapter 4

• Victoria sat on the spacious terrace with a view of the garden that looked like a living painting. The delicate aroma of green tea mingled with the afternoon air. In front of her, Grace Ashford, an elegant woman with an unwaveringly confident demeanor, sipped tea from a porcelain cup with elegant movements.
• “How do you feel about living here, Victoria?” Grace started the conversation. Her eyes were sharp, like a hawk watching its prey.
• Victoria stared into her teacup, searching for the right words. “I'm... still a bit surprised,” she replied. It was the truth Victoria could tell. In just over a week, her life had changed. She used to sleep in a room that was so cramped that even just putting her clothes and bag on it was difficult to sleep freely. She was given a room that had been used as a warehouse. When Victoria protested that Abby was with her, her parents and sister scolded her. They said Victoria was an ignorant woman.
• Grace chuckled, but it sounded more like mockery. "Surprised? That's a small price to pay for such good luck. Not everyone gets a man like Logan for a husband, you know?”
• The words stabbed Victoria like thorns, even though she knew the truth. She just nodded slowly, choosing silence over starting an argument that wouldn't work in her favor.
• Grace leaned back in the wicker chair, enjoying the atmosphere. “You know,” she said slowly, ”this arranged marriage was my father's - Logan's grandfather's - greatest wish. He wanted Logan to have someone who could take care of him, especially with his current condition.”
• Victoria nodded again, more stiffly this time. She had heard that excuse before, many times in fact. Reasons that, although they made sense, still felt like a weight pressing on her chest. Still, she agreed to everything for one thing-the treatment of Abby, her sick daughter.
• “Therefore,” Grace continued, her tone turning sharper, “you must take good care of him.” The woman's gaze changed, from warm to cold as ice. Victoria sensed a truly terrible darkness behind that gaze.
• Victoria bowed her head. “I'll do my best,” she replied simply, though her chest felt tight.
• “By the way,” Grace set down her teacup with a graceful gesture, ”how is your daughter?”
• Victoria lifted her face. She had not expected the question. It seemed to provide an answer to the meeting Grace had this afternoon. If she had just been making small talk.
• This was the main thing Grace wanted to talk to her about.
• That's why Victoria had to be careful, her gut feeling told her so. “ Her condition is still unstable,” she replied. “She's still under intensive monitoring. But the doctor said she will have another blood transfusion next week.”
• Grace gave a small nod, without much expression. “Don't worry. I've already spoken to the doctor who treated your daughter at the hospital. I'll cover all the costs, as long as...”
• Victoria turned quickly, her eyes looking at Grace with unconcealed suspicion. “As long as what?” she asked, her voice filled with concern. “Isn't Mr. Logan going to pay for it?”
• Grace laughed amusedly. “What's the difference between Logan and me? I'm your husband's aunt. There are many things I manage including some of Logan's personal sets.” She propped up her face with both hands. Her eyes looked at Victoria without breaking. “What... don't you trust me?”
• “Ah, it's not that Mrs. Grace. It's just that...”
• “You don't have to worry about much,” Grace interrupted unceremoniously. “As long as you do what I want - take good care of Logan, my precious nephew, you and your daughter can live a good life. Your daughter's treatment costs a lot of money, doesn't it?”
• Victoria nodded slowly, though her mind jumped to unspoken possibilities. Did the Ashford family want offspring? Did they hope she could provide a successor to Logan, despite her condition? The thought seemed both wild and frightening. She shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the thoughts that spun without direction. However, what came out of Grace's mouth stunned her.
• “You just need to make sure Logan takes this medicine,” Grace said suddenly, pulling out a small bottle of pills from her handbag. The bottle looked simple, with no obvious labeling.
• Victoria frowned, took the bottle and examined it. The seal was still intact, but there was no description or instructions. “What is this... medicine?” she asked cautiously.
• “It's a doctor's prescription,” Grace replied casually. “It will help Logan during his therapy. He's used to taking it, but lately, he's been neglecting it. Your job is just to make sure he takes it every day. It's not hard, is it?”
• Victoria stared at the bottle with a doubtful look. “Why don't you give it to him directly by yourself?"
• Grace chuckled, but there was something cold in her laughter. “Logan is not an easy person to deal with, Victoria. That's why we pushed this wedding a bit. We were hoping your presence by his side would change him. At the very least, he might give in to your demands.”
• Victoria was silent, her fingers tapping gently on the surface of the bottle. Grace's words seemed too simple, but the request pressed like an unavoidable burden.
• “Just think of Abigail's treatment,” Grace added in a softer, yet pressure-laden voice. “On behalf of the Ashford family, I'm just asking for a little favor from you. It's not difficult, is it?”
• Victoria's heart was at war. There was a part of her that felt this wasn't quite right, but on the other hand, Grace's offer was too hard to refuse. For Abigail's sake, she would do anything. “All right,” she finally replied in a low voice. “I'll make sure Logan drinks it.”
• Grace smiled with satisfaction. “Good. You made a wise decision, Victoria.”
• ***
• Victoria sat in the room with the bottle of medicine she had just received. She counted the contents-30 pills, just as Grace had said. Logan only needed to take one every day, and next month the supply would be renewed.
• It wasn't a difficult job, but this was the first time Victoria would interact with the man with the ocean-blue eyes. Ever since she came to the mansion, she hadn't seen Logan. The servants said Logan was busy working in his office. If Victoria needed anything, just tell the servants. The man really treated Victoria as a stranger in this house.
• “This shouldn't be a difficult task,” she muttered to herself, though a feeling of unease still hung over her heart. The bottle felt heavier than it should.
• Victoria decided to get on with the task. She headed to the kitchen to prepare a glass of water, making sure everything was ready when she met Logan. However, her steps stopped when she saw him in the kitchen.
• Logan was standing next to a shelf, trying to reach something that didn't look very tall. But for someone with paralyzed legs, it was a big challenge. His wheelchair was slightly behind him, as if he had deliberately left it behind to push against his limits.
• Victoria was stunned. She watched as Logan struggled, holding on to the shelf carefully so as not to lose his balance. His eyes radiated incredible determination, full of concentration.
• Unfortunately, Logan's body lost balance just before his hands could reach the edge of the table. He fell to the floor with a loud crash that echoed through the kitchen, causing Victoria Hayes, who had just entered, to stare for a moment before frantically stepping over.
• “Mr. Logan!” she called as she ran over to the man. Logan looked pained, a look of pain on his face as he remained stern.
• “Don't come any closer,” he said coldly, a warning look in his eyes.
• Victoria ignored the order. She knelt beside him, trying to support Logan's body which felt heavier than she expected. “God, where are the servants when they're needed?” she muttered irritably as she tried to lift Logan back into his wheelchair. “Come on, I'll help you. What exactly are you looking for on that shelf? You can call for help. You could have been seriously injured!”
• Logan snorted, his tone full of indifference. “I don't need your help.”
• However, Victoria didn't care about the rejection. She kept trying until she finally managed to sit Logan back in the wheelchair. Her eyes quickly examined the man's condition, looking for signs of injury.
• “You seem to have sprained your leg,” she said after taking a closer look. He touched the area that looked swollen, making Logan grimace at the pain.
• “Go away,” he said in a sharper tone, trying to turn the wheelchair away.
• Victoria stopped him quickly. “You need a massage in this area,” she said in a calm voice. “Let me help you.”
• “I said don't touch me!” Logan snapped.
• Victoria remained calm. “I'm just trying to help,” she said quietly. “Please, let me do it.”
• Logan grunted in frustration, but no longer spoke. Victoria took that as consent. Carefully, she began to apply gentle pressure on the visibly swollen area, ignoring the small hisses that escaped Logan's mouth.
• “Tell me if it hurts too much,” she said, making sure her touch didn't aggravate the injury.
• There was no verbal response, just grunts and the occasional gasp from Logan. After a few minutes, Victoria stopped the massage. “Well, that's done,” she said, smiling slightly. “If you'll allow me, I can give you regular therapy to help you recover and maybe... get back to walking.”
• “I don't need it,” Logan replied shortly, still with a cold tone. “And I won't thank you for any of this.”
• Victoria just smiled a little, unfazed. Her experience with people over the years had taught her that patience was key.
• “Oh,” she said suddenly, ”Do you realize you can move your toes?”
• Logan immediately looked at her, his expression turning unreadable. “What do you mean?”
• “Try ... moving your toe just a little.”
• Logan looked at her doubtfully, but slowly tried to move his foot. In seconds that felt like an eternity, Logan's big toe gave a small, almost imperceptible response. But for someone who had been hoping for so long, it was enough to thrill.
• Logan's gaze changed. His eyes glazed over, filled with mixed emotions of hope and pent-up happiness.
• Victoria saw the moment and quickly handed him the small bottle of pills Grace had given her. “Take these, Mr. Logan. I hear they help speed up your recovery. I'll also be giving you regular massages to keep your leg muscles from getting too stiff. You don't mind, do you?”