Chapter 3

Dylan's POV

I watched as Josie hurried up the stairs, the door closing behind her with a soft click. The house fell quiet again, save for the faint sound of rain against the windows.

"Jenkins, how has Josie been lately?" I asked without turning around.

Jenkins stood ramrod straight, the perfect picture of an English butler even after all these years in Manhattan. "Miss Gray has been quite busy with her studies, sir. She was accepted directly into the graduate research program, skipping her final undergraduate semester. She spends most of her time in her room."

I nodded thoughtfully. "Is she eating properly?"

"I ensure meals are delivered to her room daily, sir. However, sometimes she becomes so engrossed in her work that the food goes cold." Jenkins hesitated before adding, "On several occasions, I've had to remind her to eat."

A small smile tugged at my lips. Typical Josie—so dedicated to her academic pursuits that she'd forget necessities. Some things never change.

"And how are things between her and Connor?" I turned away from the window, meeting Jenkins' gaze.

Though his expression remained neutral, something flickered in his eyes. "Mr. Connor has rarely been home recently, and... his interactions with Miss Gray have become less frequent than before."

My brow furrowed slightly. "Has he said anything about their engagement?"

"He hasn't made any explicit statements, sir," Jenkins replied carefully, "but his behavior suggests he's not as enthusiastic as he once was."

My phone rang, cutting through the silence. My assistant Kevin Wilson's voice came through the speaker.

"Mr. Brooks, there's a conference call with the European division scheduled in thirty minutes. Your presence is required."

"Understood. Have the documents ready," I replied concisely before ending the call.

I turned back to Jenkins. "Please have some late-night snacks sent up to Josie's room."

"Of course, sir," he nodded and left.

As I watched him go, I couldn't help the small smile that formed. Ten years. It had been ten years since Josie first came to live with the Brooks family. From a twelve-year-old girl to the young woman of twenty-two she was now.

I headed upstairs to my study and opened my laptop. The screen illuminated with rows of data and reports, but my mind drifted back to that rainy night a decade ago.

The storm had been relentless, thunder crashing overhead. Twelve-year-old Josie, having just lost her parents, was burning up with fever. She curled up beneath the blankets, her tiny body trembling from both fever and fear.

I sat beside her bed, constantly wiping her down with a cool washcloth to bring the fever down. Just as her condition seemed to stabilize and I was about to leave, she caught me off guard by grabbing my hand, clutching it as if it were her only lifeline in the storm.

"Don't go... please..." she had whispered, drifting between consciousness and sleep.

I stayed the entire night, sitting there while she held onto my hand.

The conference call began on time, with division heads reporting in sequence. I listened attentively, occasionally nodding or asking questions, but part of my mind remained fixed on the young woman upstairs.

She's an adult now. No longer the little girl who needed someone to stay with her until she fell asleep. Now she understood more, including... feelings?

She and Conner had grown up together after all—there was naturally a bond between them. But that boy truly didn't deserve her holding on.

If Connor could truly care for her, I would step aside, watching over her silently from a distance. But seeing how things stood, I couldn't remain in the shadows any longer. The time had come to move closer, to ensure she was protected properly.

After the meeting ended, it was well past midnight. I left my study and went into the kitchen to pour myself some milk. As I descended the stairs, I spotted Josie in simple loungewear and slippers, carrying her empty plate toward the kitchen.

She wore a loose long-sleeved t-shirt and cotton pajama pants, her hair tied back in a casual ponytail. No makeup, no fancy clothes. Just a natural beauty that was somehow more striking than any carefully crafted appearance.

"Still up at this hour?" I asked, my voice softer than usual.

Josie startled, then relaxed when she saw me. "Uncle Dylan... I just finished analyzing some experimental data and got hungry. Jenkins's midnight snack arrived at the perfect time."

"How's your research coming along?" I moved closer, naturally taking the plate from her hands.

"Pretty good, though I've hit some roadblocks recently..." Her eyes lit up as she began enthusiastically explaining her project.

I listened quietly, a gentle smile forming. Even though I didn't fully grasp all the scientific terminology, watching her animated expressions as she talked about her passion was something I genuinely enjoyed.

Suddenly, as Josie turned to leave, the hem of her pajama top caught on the doorknob. As she lost her balance, I quickly reached out and caught her by the waist.

Time seemed to stand still.

Josie fell against my chest, her warm presence and the delicate scent of her shower gel leaving me momentarily dazed. She looked up at me, our faces close enough that I could feel her breath. Her eyes, usually confident and focused, now showed a flicker of uncertainty.

I looked down at her, my hand steady on her waist—not too intimate, yet not rushing to let go. In that moment, something stirred within me, a feeling both familiar and foreign.

"Careful," I said softly, my voice deeper than intended.

Josie's eyes darted away, clearly flustered.

"Thanks," she whispered, quickly straightening up.

We stood there, an arm's length apart yet somehow closer than we'd been in years. The air between us seemed charged with something neither of us was ready to name.