I think I have been in the hospital for a few days now? Things seem to be going back into place. From time to time, each of my family members comes to spend time with me everyday despite being busy. Liam and Aunt Lia especially handling the company matters.

Luckily Jeff was present to handle the media damage about the NYX investors. And about me too.

I have been told to rest here before I could be discharged.

Hospitals seem to have a special talent for making people bored to death.

I have tried watching something, but my attention span has somehow shortened because of living in these walls. I have counted the beeps of the machine, and I have counted the tiles of the floor, and it has done nothing to make the time pass. The hand of the clock on the wall seems to slow down with every minute passing.

“What’s with your expressions?” Jasmine asks, stepping inside the room. I watch her sit on the chair beside the bed, a frown on her face. “Nothing, I am bored,” I mutter, feeling a bit of relief to have some company, especially hers. “Maybe watch some movies?”

I sigh, “Done that.”

“What about reading some books?”

I point at the books kept on the couch. “Stella brought those for me; read all of them.” It was really considerate of her to bring me some nonfiction books to help me spend time here. Liam told me to be grateful because she doesn't give her books to anyone so easily

“Maybe paint?’ she suggests

I shake my head. “That’s not allowed in the hospital.”

“Okay… Let me think of something.” She hums softly, tilting her head up, her fingers drumming against the bed. The corner of my lip twitches to suppress a smile, watching her think so deeply to cure my boredom. “It’s alright,” I say softly, “maybe we can just—”

“Wait! I know!” she exclaims excitedly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Before I could stop her, she grabbed her bag and started searching through it for something. I elevate the back of the bed and sit up, leaning against it for support. She pulls out a few sheets; my eyes zeros on it, realizing what she is holding.

“No Jasmine,” I say, it’s more of a plea than a rejection.

She raises her eyebrow and scoots closer with a mischievous smile. “Come on! It will be fun! This looks so boring.” She gestures to the white bandages wrapped on my shoulder and arm.

“It’s a bandage, milaya.”

She looks at me, blinking and totally unaffected. “Just look at them!” she requests, holding up the stickers at me. They seem like a pop of color in this white room, all sparkly and funky. She carefully peels off one and shows it to me. “This looks like you,” she comments, waving a fox sticker at my face.

My soul leaves my body

“Please tell me you aren't putting that on me.”

She gives me a wide grin “You talk like I am giving you a choice.” I open my mouth and close it, feeling completely speechless and betrayed. “I am a grown adult.”

I was too late

She already sticked it to my shoulder

I inhale sharply shaking my head in disapproval

“A very bored grown adult,” she says, correcting my sentence. I look down at the sticker, a fox head against the white bandages—it reminds me of a fox sticker she gave me on our second meeting. She just stuck it on my jacket, and I was unable to peel it off or wash it away.

It's still there like a memory.

“Do you want some more?” she asks, her tone almost too hopeful for me to reject. Reluctantly I nod my head, watching how her face brightens up at the smallest thing. “Tell me which one,” she asks, showing me emotions of flowers, animals, emojis, and even cartoons.

I lean closer, trying to get a closer look at them. I know I can't escape this.

I chose something subtle like flowers and animals. watching how she carefully peels them and applies them on my wounded areas, filling up the blank space.

With each sticker she places on me, it comes with a small encouragement, gentle reminders in a way that are supposed to be playful, yet I understand the deeper meaning behind it.

“This is for being a good patient,” she says, sticking a cake

“This is for your fast recovery.” she sticks a broccoli

“This is for making everyone happy with your presence.” It was a sun, warm and bright, smiling. 

My expression softens watching her so engaged in the moment, how she seems to take the most suitable sticker for each word uttered from her lips—the gentle tremble of her fingers when she thinks I am not watching.

It doesn't seem like a conscience for her to have a bunch of sticker packs just lying in her bag.

Then she pauses, holding a small sticker shaped like a heart.

She hesitates slightly, her eyes finally meeting mine before her lips curve into a smile that I have been waiting to see. “This one,” she murmurs, placing it gently between the bandage that’s on my shoulder and collarbone—near to my heart. “It is for you. For handling things that weren't your fault.”

Something tightens in my chest.

It's her silent way of comforting me without bringing up the topic again, like I asked.

“Thank you,” I mutter, my fingers brushing against hers. She smiles, intertwining our fingers, making me realize how much I missed her warmth or the idea of being near her.

I hear the door click open, diverting my attention towards the new presence. The nurse stops in the doorway, her gaze moving from Jasmine to me and then at my sticker-covered self. Her eyes widen. “I—” she starts, then stops. I expected Jasmine to pull away her hand but she didn't.

Instead she straightens up, smiling at the nurse “Hi.”

The nurse presses her lips together so tightly I can see the effort it’s taking not to smile. She looks down at the tray, then back at me again, eyes lingering on the pink bow sticker on my forehead patch.

“…Lunch,” She walks over, sets the tray on the table beside my bed with exaggerated care, and I could hear her stifle a laugh when she gets closer. I just stay too silent, looking at the ceiling with so much interest, like it's playing a movie.

I am just a corpse

“Enjoy your time,” she says to Jasmine, as if passing some silent message which only they both could understand—I am assuming this from their glances and smiles. She gives me one deliberate nod before walking out of the door.

As soon as she is out, Jasmine wheezes, “What was that!”

I groan, hoping my bed swallows me alive. “You tell me that!”

“She just got to see a beautiful art piece.” She chuckles, pulling out the table and placing the tray on it carefully. I shoot her a playful glare. “I look like a kindergarten art project,” I grumble, straightening my back and rubbing my palm on my face.

She lets out a dramatic gasp, draping the back of her wrist on her forehead like some dramatic heroine. “How could you insult my artwork?”

I scoff, shaking my head at her acting “dramebaaz,” I mutter, flicking her forehead gently.

[Translation - someone overdramatic]

She blinks in surprise. “Hey, hey, did you just say it in Hindi?” She asks in disbelief, her eyes wide, giving me an open-mouthed smile. I shrug nonchalantly. I pick up the spoon and stir the soup with it slowly to help it cool down—I guess studying from that dictionary really helped

“How many words do you know now? Why didn't you speak any?” she asks

“A few now,” many actually, but I don’t know how to use them properly in sentences yet.

Her eyes narrow. “And yet the first thing you called me is ‘dramebaaz’ Seriously, Lucas?” She huffs, crossing her arms. I try to hide my smirk while taking a sip of the soup, but she notices it. “chhupa rustam” she grumbles. I freeze mid-sip and look at her, putting the spoon down. “What does that mean?”

[Translation - someone with hidden talent]

She smirks, leaning closer. “Read and find it yourself,” she says, almost mockingly. Then, carefully, she stirs the soup, letting it cool down for a minute before feeding it to me.

“You are not going to tell me?”

She shakes her head.

“Oh, if we are playing that game” I trail off, resting my elbow on the table and using it to support my chin. “Я люблю тебя, поэтому я и не смог тебя победить”

“Not fair! I don't know russian!"

“You started this,” I point out

“No, YOU started this!” She shoots back

“But—” Before I could speak, she put bread in my mouth. I exhale slowly, chewing the bread and washing it down with some more soup. “Fine, I started it.”

She smiles in victory, then feeds me another bite. Then another bite; an unknown silence forms between us, but it was comforting in a way. We didn't speak; maybe having each other's presence was enough for us at the moment.

After the whole lunch is finished, Jasmine keeps it aside to be taken away later.

I lean against the cool wall, crossing my arms and waiting for him. This is a far end of the corridor near the fire exit, away from any interruption or people lingering around to hear our conversation.

Jeff arrives after a few minutes of me waiting. Punctual.

I push myself up, straighten myself, and look at him—dressed in his signature suit. “You look like you’re about to interrogate me,” he says calmly, stopping a few steps away from me.

“I am.” I reply straightforwardly with my intentions “I need updates.”

A corner of his mouth twitches. “You should use that tone to order Lucas around, not me.”

I try to ignore his comment. “Jeff, please.”

He exhales slowly, slipping one of his hands into his pocket. “Fine. Iris’s father panicked faster than expected.”

My interest spikes

“He reversed the investor pullout from NYX,” Jeff continues, “giving some rubbish reason like it was just to create some negative PR. Somehow those investors came back; it felt like they didn't want to leave either but the sheer pressure out by him made them take the decision.”

My breath eases out slowly “So it worked?” I ask

“It did more than that.” His lip curves up into a smirk. “I convinced Liam to press formal charges on him —market manipulation, coercion, abuse of influence.” He pulls out his phone, checking for something “I have made sure to open all his illegal files. He is finished. Even if he avoids prison, his reputation won’t survive.”

I close my eyes briefly, feeling relief and satisfaction wash over me.

Good.

“And Iris?” I ask quietly

“She is in the same water as her father, being involved,” he replies without hesitation. “Which is deserved.”

I nod in response, that's what they deserved. I don't feel guilty but proud to put them in their place.

“Also Kavya”

My head snaps in his direction “What about her?”

Jeff stares at me with a deadpan expression. “Handled.”

My stomach twists. “How?”

“I made sure her name is blacklisted across major companies there,” he says evenly. “No corporate hiring, no internships, no recommendations.” He pauses for a second , to see my reaction. “I also sent a formal report to her university in the US, so her LOR are cancelled.”

“Jeff—”

“They are withholding her degree and the enrollment which she got from her university,” he finishes calmly. I just stare at him in disbelief, trying to process all that. That's brutal, but she should have seen that coming before pulling all that off.

I swallow hard, trying to calm the emotions tangling inside me. “She did this on her own. Her father didn’t even know.”

“I am aware,” he says. “That’s why I didn't do anything against her family. It's on her professional life.”

I nod, pressing my lips together. “I guess that's her future now.”

Jeff shakes his head “No. That’s the consequence of her choices.”

Yeah, he is right

“And—” he adds, his voice lifting off that serious tone. He pulls something up on his phone and hands it to me. I frown in confusion, looking at him and then down at his phone. A news article open with the headline ‘Royal Crest in hands of a Woman.’

“Maya,” I mutter her name, the realization slowly sinking in. I scroll further, reading about the Maya being voted as the next CEO of the northern branch of Royal Crest.

“She’s taken over the northern branch of Royal Crest,” Jeff says. “Your uncle’s rejection wasn't accepted by the board. Also because, surprisingly, your cousins are supporting her instead of running in the race.”

“They are?” I ask, my voice raising in shock. I thought they really wanted to take over next, but now they are giving it up for her? So suddenly?

Jeff nods, his expressions not impressed “It would make more sense if you asked them directly. Your family, remember?”

Yeah, right. My family.

“Your family dynamics are fascinating, sometimes this, sometimes that.” He comments dryly “Very confusing”

I sigh softly. “And that's why I am surviving.”

We fall quiet for a few moments. Down the hall the chatter of people or movements could be heard. “So, anything else you want to destroy?” He asks, almost too interested.

I snort at his words, this guy seems quite excited when it comes to causing chaos. “No, this was quite enough.” I rock on my feet, debating internally before speaking again “Thank you for all the help. I wouldn't have done it without you.”

His eyes soften before he shrugs nonchalantly. “Ruining lives is my hobby. You don't need to thank me for that.” He waves his hand. “You should go back to him before he comes looking for you like a lovesick puppy.”

”Alright, Goodbye” I mutter, watching him walk away. I turn back to look at the fire exit door, he might be up by now?

Let's go