The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 82

X Chapter 44. Between Trust and Shadows-2

Chapter 44: Between Trust and Shadows-2

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Even the surgery, one that typically took months-sometimes years-to get scheduled, had been fast-tracked. Prioritized under the personal request of someone named Mr. Ashcroft.

Maya had nodded politely when she heard the name. But inside, confusion bloomed.

She hadn’t met him.

Who was Mr. Ashcroft? And why would he step in for someone like her?

Or maybe… it wasn’t about her at all.

“Personally requested,” Dr. Anderson had said. “By Mr. Ashcroft and Mr. Blackwood.”

The words echoed in her mind long after the doctor left the room.

She sat in the quiet after Dr. Anderson left, her hands resting in her lap, her mind anything but still.

It should’ve been relief-pure and simple. Jamie was getting the care he needed, the best care money could buy, and somehow, they didn’t have to worry about how to pay for it.

But relief wasn’t the only thing curling in her chest.

Gratitude warred with unease. Joy tangled with something she didn’t quite want to name. Because this-this level of intervention-wasn’t normal. It wasn’t kindness from a distance. It was personal. Intimate.

And it came from him.

Damien Blackwood. A man who didn’t do entanglements. A man who terrified her and drew her in at the same time.

She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the flutter there.

She had questions. Too many. But only one rose to the surface right now, sharp and insistent.

Mr. Ashcroft.

The name had been mentioned twice now-once by James, and again by Dr. Anderson. Spoken with reverence. With weight. And yet, she didn’t know his face. Didn’t know what kind of man would personally clear her brother for surgery, or why his name was always spoken in the same breath as Damien’s.

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Chapter 44 Between Trust and Shadows-2

And she couldn’t carry the confusion anymore.

+25 Points

Later that afternoon, Monroe returned with fresh clothes and a tray of lunch. He moved with his usual quiet efficiency, setting everything down.

Maya waited until he’d finished, then gathered a bit of courage.

“Mr. Monroe…” she began, her voice soft but steady. “Can I ask you something?”

He looked up from the tablet, warm and attentive as always.

“Ms. Thompson, please,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Drop the ‘Mr.’ Just Monroe is fine. And of course.”

She hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

“Only if you drop the ‘Ms. Thompson.’ Maya is fine.”

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