“How did you find out Miss Ivy was living here?” Jamison asked.

Ivy was about to answer, but this time Micah came clean. “At that party a few days ago, Katrina went looking for you, and you two left early together. I noticed… so I secretly followed you…”

“Oh, you’ve grown bold, haven’t you? Following me?”

“But the security guard stopped me and I lost you. When I finally managed to sneak in, I wandered around the neighborhood until I saw your car. I figured you were in Building Two, so I waited by the elevator, called you, and… then I saw the elevator coming down from the top floor—Ow!!”

A flash of realization crossed Ivy’s face.

That night, after Jamison had finished treating her injury, he’d taken a phone call and left in a hurry.

So it had been Micah calling!

He’d deliberately lured Jamison downstairs.

Before Micah could finish, Jamison’s hand tightened suddenly, pressing hard on his wound.

Micah howled in pain.

“You halfwit. The one time you show some brains, you use them against me!” Jamison’s face was thunderous, his eyes cold as winter.

The thought of being used—outsmarted, even—by his own infuriating nephew left Jamison seething with rage.

He tossed the tweezers back into the medical kit and gave up any pretense of caring about Micah’s well-being. Grabbing Micah by the collar, he hauled him up. “Come on. We’re not done tonight.”

Micah, shorter than Jamison, dangled awkwardly from his grip, looking utterly pathetic.

“Uncle, my wound’s still bleeding…”

“You’ll live.”

“Uncle, I know I was wrong… I shouldn’t have used you. I swear I won’t do it again!”

Jamison paused, fixing him with a steely stare. “That’s all you think you did wrong?”

Micah winced in pain, his face scrunched up, glancing first at his uncle and then over at Ivy by the kitchen counter. Realization dawned.

“Uncle, I… I realized I’m still in love with Ivy. I wanted to get back together with her, that’s why I went to all this trouble to find her… I admit I acted on impulse, but it’s because I love her so much…”

Having spilled his real motive, Micah looked at Ivy, his voice pleading and sincere. “Ivy, you disappeared for three years. I spent two years searching for you… Even when I was with Emma, I never stopped. I mean it—I want to make things right, I want us to start over. I’ll take care of things with Emma, I promise.”

Ivy, who’d been watching the drama unfold like a soap opera, suddenly felt a wave of disgust.

Her face was expressionless, her voice clear and calm. “Thank you for looking for me. But whatever was between us, it’s over.”

“Miss Ivy, I’ll take him home. Let’s just call it a night. He’s paid the price,” Jamison said, glancing her way.

He took in her elegant silk nightdress, the cool poise she carried, and despite himself, felt a faint pang in his chest. His expression, however, remained unchanged.

Ivy nodded. “Thanks for coming over. Sorry for the trouble.”

Jamison gave a wry smile—trouble was his family’s middle name. As her elder, wasn’t it his job to sort out these messes?

He dragged Micah toward the door. Micah, still unwilling to give up, called out, “Uncle, Ivy and I truly loved each other. We can start again—”

“In your dreams,” Jamison snapped, shutting him up and hauling him out.

The living room finally fell quiet. Katrina pressed a hand to her chest, still shaken. “That was terrifying. What’s gotten into Micah? Thank goodness Dr. Ludwig showed up when he did.”

Ivy pressed her lips together, frowning slightly, but said nothing.

She didn’t want to admit it, but a little voice in her head whispered: her feelings toward Jamison were starting to change.

It was nearly eleven by the time Ivy was getting ready for bed when her phone rang.

She picked it up—Jamison.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hesitated before answering, “Hello…”

Jamison had just finished a late shift and was walking out of the hospital, heading home. Hearing the soft, sleepy sound of her voice, he asked, “Did I wake you?”