“Make sure you are dressed for dinner tonight,” she added. “Jason’s business partners are arriving.”

Once she was gone, I sank back into the chair.

I looked at Ethan.

His fingers twitched slightly against the sheet.

I quickly leaned over him.

His eyes didn’t open this time, but his lips moved slightly.

“Paper,” he whispered, so low I could barely hear it. “In… my desk.”

“What paper, Ethan?” I whispered back.

“The drawer,” he breathed. “False… bottom.”

Before I could ask more, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway.

I sat back quickly, grabbing a book from the side table.

The door opened again, and a nurse walked in to check the IV drip.

I pretended to read, my heart pounding in my chest.

I needed to get into Ethan’s private study.

But Jason’s office was right next to it.

And I knew Jason was watching my every move.

Later that afternoon, I walked down the long, carpeted corridor of the west wing.

The portraits of past Thorntons stared down at me from the mahogany walls.

I reached the door to Ethan’s study.