Ellison And Joycelyn A Love Beyond The Rules novel Chapter 5

Ellison stood by his grandmother's hospital bed, concern cracking his stoic mask as he watched her breathe through the oxygen mask.

His phone's vibration broke the sterile silence. A message lit up his screen—his eyes sharpened with recognition as he read it. He then sent a one-word response. [Yes.]

The speed of his reply caught Joycelyn off guard. Wiping tears away, she typed with trembling fingers: [Could you pick me up? We need to talk.]

His terse agreement felt like salvation. Maybe a marriage of convenience wasn't the worst option.

She had barely sent her location when her phone died, taken by either rain or drained battery.

'If he comes, I'll marry him,' she decided. 'If not, be it.'

As Ellison moved to leave, his grandmother's fragile grasp caught him.

"You stubborn boy," Isolde Grant whispered.

"I didn't mean to worry you, Grandma. I've found someone—we're getting married tomorrow. No more stress, okay?" His voice held rare tenderness.

Hope flickered in Isolde's tired eyes. "Really?" She struggled to sit up.

Gently easing her back down, he tucked her blankets close. "Really. I'm going to get her now. You'll meet her in the morning. Rest now."

"Promise you're not lying to me."

"Never."

The world knew Ellison as ruthless and driven, but for his grandmother, his patience was infinite.

After briefing the nurses, he grabbed his keys, ready to head out.

"Mr. Grant, there's a Category 3 hurricane today. It wouldn't be safe for you to drive," the bodyguard reported promptly, stepping forward as he saw Ellison preparing to leave.

"It's fine." Brushing off his warning, Ellison left for the parking lot.

His black Maybach cut through the storm like an avenging angel, driving toward its destiny.

Fierce wind battered Joycelyn's small frame beneath the bus shelter. She clung to her suitcase, the tempest offering no real protection.

Fear of missing Ellison kept her rooted despite the need for better shelter. Rain hammered the roof like buckshot while trees thrashed in the gale.

Just as despair settled in her bones and she was about to find another shelter, headlights pierced the darkness and a black car approached through the pouring rain.

The Maybach pulled up smoothly. Ellison stepped out, ignoring the storm's fury. Rain instantly plastered his suit to his frame, but his focus remained on the girl before him—lost, hurt, like an abandoned kitten in the storm.

"Get in," he said simply, taking her suitcase.

His voice cut through chaos. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I thought you weren't coming," she whispered, swollen eyes meeting his.