A young nurse bathed a millionaire in a coma, but when he suddenly woke up, something miraculous happened. The fluorescent lights of Westbridge Private Cardiovascular Hospital hummed softly as Anna Munro walked through the immaculate white corridors. She had been a nurse there for almost two years, but today she felt different.
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The moment she received the unexpected call to the office from Dr. Harris, chief of neurology, a strange sensation took hold of her chest. Had he done something wrong? Was she being transferred? He took a deep breath before knocking on the polished mahogany door. Go ahead.
Upon entering, he found Dr. Harris standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back and his usual piercing gaze fixed on the city skyline. His office smelled of sterile antiseptic and expensive leather, and the atmosphere was denser than usual. “Anna,” he said, turning finally to her.
His voice sounded serious and measured. We have a patient who requires special care, but this job is not for cardiac patients. Anna frowned.
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Not for the faint of heart? What kind of patient? he asked cautiously. Dr. Harris stared at her for a moment before pointing to a thick medical file on his desk. Grant Carter, he said.
Said. Anna’s breath got stuck in her throat. Grant Carter.
The Grant Carter. Although he didn’t recognize the name instantly, the cover of the file said it all. A black-and-white newspaper clipping from a terrible car accident.
A year ago, the city’s youngest billionaire suffered a devastating accident. His sports car slipped off a bridge in the middle of the night, leaving him in a coma ever since. His name grabbed headlines.
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Grant Carter, the ruthless and untouchable CEO of Carter Enterprises. The man who built an empire at just 32 years old. And now? He was nothing more than a ghost trapped in his own body.
His family rarely visits, Dr. Harris continued. And most medical personnel simply make their rounds out of obligation. But Grant Carter needs someone dedicated.
Someone who really cares. Anna bit her lip. I could sense the hesitation in his voice.
And do you think that someone is me? Dr. Harris nodded. Yes, I think so. Anna took a deep breath.
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It was a daunting task to care for a man who might never wake up. A man whose wealth and power once dictated the lives of thousands. But deep down, she knew the answer even before she spoke.
I will. Dr. Harris’ lips tightened into a fine line, but there was a glint of approval in his eyes. Not bad.
Does your shift start tonight? The private suite on the top floor of the hospital felt eerily quiet as Anna entered. Unlike the cold barrenness of the other rooms, this one was designed for luxury. A spacious layout, dim chandeliers and dark oak furniture.
And at the center of it all lay Grant Carter. His breath was cut off as he looked at it. Despite the tubes, the machines that kept him alive, and the stillness of his body, he was beautiful.
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Firm jawline, dark eyelashes against her pale skin, broad shoulders visible under hospital gown. If not for the lifeless stillness, he could easily have passed for a man who was simply sleeping. But this was not just any dream…
This man was trapped in an eternal silence. Anna swallowed hard and walked over, adjusting her IV before taking the warm cloth that had been prepared for her. He hesitated for a second before gently pressing it against his skin.
The moment she touched it, a strange shiver ran down her spine, an inexplicable sensation. As if he could feel her there. As if, in the depths of his unconsciousness, he knew.
A soft beep from the heart monitor filled the silence, steady and rhythmic. Anna got rid of that strange feeling and continued with her work, carefully cleaning her arms and chest, making sure that her body remained clean and cared for. “I guess you don’t have a say in this, huh?” she muttered, almost to herself.
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Silence. I’ll take it as a no. A small smile tugged at his lips to annoy.
The days became a routine. Every morning and night, Anna bathed him, changed his sheets, and checked his vital signs. But it soon ceased to be just a matter of medical care.
She found herself talking to him, telling him stories of her day, of the world she saw outside her window. You should check out the cafeteria food, Grant. It’s tragic.
Even for a billionaire, I doubt you survived. Silence. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.
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Maybe I just like the sound of my own voice. Silence. Silence.
Or maybe you’re listening to it. The heart monitor was constantly ringing, as if it were responding to him. And maybe, just maybe, he was doing it.
Anna hummed softly as she dipped a clean washcloth in the warm water. The sterile silence of Grant’s private suite in the hospital was something he had grown accustomed to over the weeks. The constant beeping of the heart monitor, the faint hum of the IV line, it was all part of the atmosphere now.
She leaned over the bed, carefully wiping Grant’s face, with soft but precise fingers. “You know?” he said in a soft voice. “I read somewhere that people between commas can still hear things.”
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So, technically, you’re the worst listener I’ve ever met. No answer, of course. He sighed, shaking his head.
It is ok. I’ve gotten used to talking to myself. He moved to clean his jaw when, with a slight movement, he gasped for breath.
Would he have imagined it? She froze, staring at his hand. Nothing. Fingers lay motionless on the starched white sheets.
Anna chuckled, shaking her head. Great, now I’m hallucinating. Maybe I’m the one who needs a hospital bed.
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But the concern persisted. And over the next few days, it happened again. The second time, she was adjusting his pillow.
He wasn’t looking when he felt it. A slight pressure on your wrist. His head slumped.
Grant’s hand had moved. Only an inch, but enough to make his stomach turn upside down. “Grant,” he whispered, barely noticing that he had said his name.
Silence. The same rhythmic beep from the monitor. She put her hand on his, feeling his warmth, his stillness, his potential movement.
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Nothing. Did you imagine it? Or was something changing? Anna couldn’t shake that feeling, so she told Dr. Harris. Did it move? The doctor raised an eyebrow skeptically…
“I think so,” Anna admitted. At first I thought I had imagined it, but it keeps happening. His fingers tremble.
His hand moves slightly. It’s small, but it’s there. Dr. Harris leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
“We’ll do tests,” he said finally. But don’t get your hopes up, Anna. It could just be reflex muscle spasms.
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Anna nodded, but deep down she didn’t believe it. I sensed that something was happening. And when the test results came in, he wasn’t surprised.
Dr. Harris told him that there is increased brain activity. Their neurological responses are stronger than before. His heart skipped a beat.
So it’s waking up! Dr. Harris hesitated. Not necessarily. It could mean anything.
But it is a good sign. It was not the answer I wanted. But it was enough.
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Ha. That night, sitting by her bedside, Anna found herself talking to Grant more than usual. “I don’t know if you hear me, but something tells me that you do,” he murmured.
She looked at his face, at his marked features. Still motionless. But for the first time, she felt like she wasn’t alone in the room.
So she spoke. He told her about his day. About frustrated patients.
About the rude doctor on the third floor who always stole his coffee. He told her about his childhood. About the small town where he grew up.
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About how she always dreamed of being a nurse. And as he spoke, he didn’t notice that, deep in the silence of his coma, Grant was listening. The morning sun filtered through the large windows of the hospital room, casting a warm glow on Grant Carter’s motionless body.
The beeping of the heart monitor filled the silence, steady and rhythmic, as it had been for the past year. Anna was standing by the bed, rolling up her sleeves. It was just another day.
Another routine bath. Another round of conversation with someone who may never have responded to him. He dipped a warm cloth into the basin, wrung it out, and began to gently wipe Grant’s chest, using precise and careful motions.
“You know, Grant,” he murmured with a slight smile, “I was thinking of getting a dog. I need someone who listens to me, who doesn’t just lie there ignoring me all day. Silence.
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She sighed. Well, how rude, I was just talking. He reached out to take her arm, running the cloth over her skin, his fingers brushing against her wrist.
And then, hers tightened around her wrist. Anna froze. A gasping breath lodged in his throat as he stared at his hand.
The pressure wasn’t very soft, weak, hesitant, but it was there. My god! His heart was pounding, his pulse buzzing in his ears.
I wanted to believe that it was just another reflex, another meaningless tic. But no. Because then, Grant opened his eyes suddenly.
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For an instant, Anna couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. He had spent months staring at those closed eyelids, looking for any sign of movement, any glimmer of life. And now, now, those deep ocean blue eyes stared at her.
They were confused, unfocused, vulnerable, but alive. Grant’s dry lips parted. His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, but it was real.
Company. La’ai? Anna tensed up completely. His knees almost buckled, his breathing between disbelief and outright panic.
He spoke. He did not wake up. The impossible had just happened.
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He barely felt the water in the basin slip from his hands and onto the immaculate white floor as he staggered backwards. My god! His instinct was awakened.
He turned and tapped his hand on the emergency button on the wall. A loud alarm rang out through the hallway. Seconds later, the door burst open and a team of doctors and nurses rushed in, led by Dr. Harris.
What happened, Dr. Harris asked as he approached the bed, already checking Grant’s vital signs. Anna’s voice trembled. He, he grabbed my hand…
He opened his eyes. He, she, looked at Grant again, still unable to believe his eyes. His chest rose and fell tremblingly, his eyes sweeping around the room as if trying to figure out where he was.
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What was happening? I wasn’t fully conscious, not yet, but I was there. Dr. Harris’ expression shifted from surprise to action. “Get me a neurologist team right now.”
Nurses rushed to test, voices overlapping, incredulous. The room was a whirlwind of movement, but Anna couldn’t take her eyes off Grant. Then, as if sensing his gaze, his met hers again, and this time he didn’t look away.
Everything happened very quickly. Doctors asked questions, applied lights to his pupils, and assessed his motor function. But for all that, Grant’s gaze returned again and again to Anna.
She stepped forward, hesitantly, swallowing hard with difficulty. Grant, he whispered. Do you remember anything? He stared at her, blinking slowly.
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A long silence lasted between them. Then, his fingers trembled again, and before she could react, he reached out to her. Weak, slowly, but deliberately.
His hand closed around hers, his grip fragile but firm, as if he had known her forever. Anna gasped. Dr. Harris looked up sharply.
Grant, do you know who he is? Grant did not immediately respond. He frowned, not taking his eyes off Anna. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from months of inactivity.
But I feel like I should. A shiver ran down Anna’s spine. Because although Grant Carter did not remember it, something inside him did.
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The days after Grant’s miraculous awakening were filled with trials, therapy, and endless questions. Doctors were amazed by his recovery. Physically, I was weak, but I was improving.
His muscles, numb after a year of immobility, were strengthened thanks to rehabilitation. But mentally? That was another story. Grant remembered nothing of the accident.
And the more they pressed him to give them details, the more frustrated he became. “Grant, let’s try again,” Dr. Harris said during one of his sessions. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Grant rubbed his temples with a tense expression.
I do not know. What? Where were you? What did you do? Grant exhaled sharply. I told you.
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They are just fragments, flashes. Tell me. A long silence.
Then Grant closed his eyes and frowned. I remember. A sensation.
His voice was slow, uncertain. As if something was wrong. As if he were in danger.
Anna, who had been listening quietly from the side, stiffened. Grant continued, clenching his fingers. There was a way.
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Headlights. And then, nothing. Black only.
Dr. Harris sighed. It is common for trauma victims to block out painful memories. They may come back on their own.
But for now, we’re focused on recovery. Grant nodded. But Anna could see the frustration in his clenched jaw.
And deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. That night, unable to stop thinking about it, Anna went to the hospital archive. He had read Grant’s file before, but this time, he reviewed every detail with a new perspective.
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And then he saw it. Something I hadn’t seen before. The accident reconstruction team’s report stated that Grant’s brakes had failed.
Failed. It is not worn. It doesn’t work badly.
Manipulated. A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn’t just an unfortunate accident.
Someone wanted Grant to die. And he had no idea. Breathing heavily, he closed the file.
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I needed to tell him. Because if someone had tried to kill him once, he might try again. Grant’s recovery was proceeding at an astonishing speed…
In just a few weeks, he had gone from being bedridden to sitting, eating alone, and speaking in full sentences. Now, with the help of physical therapy, I was learning to walk again. And throughout that process, Anna was present.
Every step. Every struggle. Every frustrating moment when he wanted to give up, she drew him in.
“I can’t handle this,” Grant muttered, gripping tightly on the parallel bars as he tried to get up. “Yes, you can,” Anna said firmly, standing next to him. You’ve come this far, Grant.
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Don’t stop now. He turned to look at her, breathing heavily. She didn’t just say words to motivate him.
She really believed in him. And that made him believe in himself. With a determined exhale, he took another step forward.
Anna’s face lit up. That was it. For the first time since waking up, Grant smiled.
Not out of courtesy. Not out of obligation. But because, for the first time, he felt alive again.
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And he knew exactly who to thank for that. Anna was not like the others. He did not treat it as a case of charity.
She didn’t see him as a billionaire trapped in a hospital bed. He saw him. Only Grant.
And that’s why he was attracted to her. Whenever I was in the room, the world felt lighter. Each time he spoke, his voice pulled him out of the darkness that still lingered in his mind.
And every time she touched him, a hand on his arm, holding him as he walked, adjusting his pillow, he felt a tingling in his skin that he couldn’t explain. One evening, after a particularly long therapy session, Anna suggested taking a walk in the hospital garden. The fresh air would do you good, he said smiling.
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Grant agreed. But what I didn’t expect was how different everything would feel outside the hospital walls. The cool night air.
The rustling of the trees. The moon casting a soft glow over the world. For the first time, he felt like a person again.
He is not a patient. It’s not a mystery with lost memories. Only himself.
Why? And by his side, Anna. They walked slowly, Anna leaning on his arm. At first, Grant thought it was just part of his job.
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But then, he saw how his fingers stopped on his wrist. The way she looked at him when she thought he didn’t see her. The way her breath would get cut off when he got too close.
And suddenly, he knew. She felt it too. That attraction.
That tacit connection between them. They stopped near a small stone bench, while the moonlight cast shadows on the garden. Grant turned to look at her; This time, his heart was beating hard for a different reason.
Anna opened her mouth to say something. But before he could say it, Grant took his hand. Her lips parted in surprise, as her eyes searched for his.
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“I don’t remember anything from my life before this,” he admitted quietly. But of one thing I am sure. Anna swallowed.
What? He squeezed it harder. I trust you. The words were simple.
But to him, they were everything. And judging by the way Anna gasped. The blush that the moonlight gave him.
The way he didn’t step aside. She understood. And for now, that was enough.
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The night was hectic. Grant tossed and turned in the hospital bed; His body was still weak, but his mind was racing. And then, a flash.
A sudden burst of memories burst into his subconscious like a dam breaking. The road was dark. The rain was pouring down on the windshield, and his windshield wipers struggled to keep up…
Grant gripped the steering wheel tightly, his mind still clouded by the meeting he had just left. Something didn’t fit. It didn’t fit.
Suddenly, out of nowhere. Bright headlights. A black submarine swooped down on him, swerving into his lane.
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Grant tugged at the steering wheel, and his tires skidded on the slippery pavement. The brakes didn’t work. His heart was pounding as he desperately tried to regain control.
And just before impact, his gaze drifted to the side of the road. A shadowy figure stood there, watching. And then, darkness.
Grant snapped his eyes open, breathing heavily. His pulse was racing and sweat stuck to his skin. The memory had been so vivid, so real.
And now he knew the truth. It had not been an accident. Someone had tried to kill him.
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Anna noticed something was wrong as soon as she entered her room the next morning. It was no different. His usual smile was gone.
His body was tense. His hands were clenched into fists. “Concede,” he asked cautiously.
What’s going on? His piercing blue eyes locked into hers, filled with a new intensity. I remember something. Anna’s stomach tightened.
The accident? He nodded firmly. It wasn’t an accident, Anna. Someone manipulated my brakes.
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And there was a man, standing on the side of the road, watching my car crash. Anna felt chills down her spine. Everything I had suspected, he had just confirmed.
But the question persisted. Who? And why? Fly. Anna and Grant spent the next few days researching thoroughly, going through Grant’s files, company records, and anything that might indicate someone wanted him gone.
Finally, they found him. A financial transfer, a large sum of money sent just days before the accident. The recipient? A known criminal with a history of orchestrating staged accidents.
And the sender? Nathan Carter, Grant’s half-brother. Understanding struck him like lightning. It was him, Grant whispered, clutching the edge of the table.
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Nathan had always been jealous, he had always felt that Grant was the favorite, the one who inherited his father’s legacy while he remained in the shadows. And now, he had tried to erase it completely. Anna felt a knot in her heart.
Grant, I wanted you dead. Grant clenched his jaw. And now, I’ll make sure you pay.
That night, Grant and Anna arranged to meet Nathan in person. In a dimly lit studio inside the Carter estate, Nathan relaxed in a leather armchair, spinning a glass of whiskey as Grant and Anna entered. Wow, wow, Nathan smiled smugly.
The dead man walks. Grant’s eyes burned with fury. Why did you do it, Nathan? Nathan took a slow sip of his drink.
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You know why. Anna stepped forward. You tried to kill your own brother.
Why? Money? Power? Nathan’s smile faded. For everything that should have been mine, he snapped. You were always the golden girl.
The heir. The one who received everything. Well, guess what? I was sick of waiting for my turn.
Grant clenched his fists. “So you hired someone to sabotage my car.” Nathan laughed coldly.
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I didn’t think you’d survive. But hey, miracles exist, don’t they? Anna felt her anger boil inside. But before he could say anything, the door slammed open and two uniformed officers entered.
Nathan’s face paled. “Nathan Carter,” one agent announced, “you’re under arrest for attempted murder.” Nathan turned quickly to Grant, with a panicked expression.
You set me up. Grant cocked his head. No, brother, you held it out yourself…
They took Nathan away in handcuffs, shouting empty threats. And when the door slammed shut behind him, a dense silence filled the room. Grant finally exhaled, relaxing his shoulders for the first time since waking up.
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It’s over. Justice was served. And at last he was free.
The Carter estate had always been grand, towering, and cold, a fortress of wealth built on generations of power. But that night, as Anna entered the dimly lit dining room, the feeling was different, warmer, more intimate. The soft candlelight reflected off the elegantly set table, near the large windows overlooking the city skyline.
The scent of fresh roses permeated the air and a bottle of wine cooled next to two perfectly placed plates. Anna held her breath. Grant, what’s all this? he asked, turning to him.
Grant stood behind her, his hands in his pockets, his eyes soft but intense. “Dinner,” he said simply. “Just you and me.”
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Anna’s chest shrank. Over the past few weeks, their lives had been a whirlwind, from their recovery to finding out the truth about their accident and seeing their brother arrested. But now, with the storm finally over, there was only this moment.
And somehow, that scared him even more. As she sat down, Anna couldn’t ignore the way Grant was watching her. As if she memorized every detail, as if she were something fragile but precious.
“You’re quiet,” she said, giving him a tempting smile. It’s not like you. He exhaled, twirling the wine glass between his fingers.
I’ve been thinking. That’s even more dangerous, he joked. He didn’t laugh.
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Instead, he leaned forward, his gaze burning on hers. Anna, do you know how many people walked away from me while I was in a coma? His smile faded. Two, I knew.
She had seen it firsthand: how his family treated him like a burden, how his so-called friends had moved on. The only reason he had survived that darkness was because someone stayed. Because she stayed.
But you didn’t, Grant muttered. You were there, day after day. You took care of me when I couldn’t even open my eyes.
When I was nothing more than a lost cause for everyone, you refused to give up on me. Anna got a lump in her throat. I had never thought about it like that.
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She had simply done what she thought was right. But to Grant, it had meant it all. Grant moved closer, his fingers brushing hers on the table.
Anna, I have it all. His voice was soft but firm. Money, power, influence.
But none of this means anything without you. Anna held her breath. Grant, let me finish, he whispered.
His hand finally wrapped around hers, his thumb tracing slow, delicate circles across her skin. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know when it started.
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But what I do know is that every moment I was stuck in that coma, you were the one keeping me alive. You were my light in the darkness, Anna. His eyes burned with tears.
I love you. The words shocked her, taking her breath away. Not because he hadn’t felt it too, but because hearing it from him made it undeniably real.
Grant Carter, the man who once lived in a world of cold calculations, business, and power games, was now sitting across from her, baring his soul. And for the first time in her life, Anna felt something she had never felt before. Truly, completely, and irrevocably appreciated…
Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he smiled through them. Grant, he whispered, you have no idea how much that means to me. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from her.
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So let me show you. And when he leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, Anna knew. This was just the beginning.
Months had passed since that fateful night when Grant confessed his love to Anna. And in that time, everything had changed. Grant had fully recovered, regaining his strength after endless hours of rehabilitation and training.
His body was no longer weak, he was no longer slowed down by the accident that almost cost him his life. And now? It was Grant Carr Carter once again, back at the helm of Carter Enterprises, standing in the boardroom with the confidence of a man who had been through hell and back, and had survived. But there was a crucial difference between the man he was before the accident and the man who was here now.
This time he was not alone. This time I had Anna. And soon, if she said yes, she would be hers forever.
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The rooftop of the Carter estate was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting warm golden hues over the city skyline. Anna stood on the edge, taking in the breathtaking view, completely oblivious to what was about to happen. “It’s beautiful up here,” she murmured, as the breeze gently stroked her hair.
Grant, standing behind her, smiled. “Not as beautiful as you.” She turned to him, rolling her eyes playfully.
The soft Carter. Very soft. But his tempting expression faded as he looked at her.
There was something different in his eyes tonight. Something deeper. Safer.
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More infinite. Before she could ask, he took a deep breath. Then, slowly, he knelt down.
Anna’s breath was cut off. She put her hands to her mouth as Grant pulled out a small velvet box and opened it to reveal the most stunning engagement ring she’d ever seen: an elegant diamond set in a delicate platinum wedding ring. But it wasn’t the ring that took her breath away.
It was him. It was the way his voice trembled slightly as he whispered. Anna, you didn’t just save my life.
You became my life. His heart was pounding. Before you, I had it all: money, power, success.
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But I was missing something. I missed you. Tears welled up in his eyes.
You are the reason I fought to live. The reason why I met again. And now, I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much you mean to me.
He lifted the ring, not taking his eyes off her. Anna Monroe, will you marry me? The world stopped. Anna couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breathe. He could only nod frantically, laughter and tears overflowing at the same time. Yes, he finally succeeded, with a broken voice…
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