Back then, I just thought the music was beautiful. But now, you are the remedy.


    You mean infinitely more to me today than you did back then."


    Ste remained skeptical, her brows drawing together. "Is my ying really that magical?"


    Joshua reasoned smoothly, "You know as well as I do that psychological therapy often trumps clinical medication.


    There are countless documented cases. Do you want me to pull the medical files for you?"


    Ste stood quietly for a few seconds before finally caving.


    "Fine. We''ll try the music therapy. But..."


    She tipped her chin up, locking eyes with his strikingly handsome face. "If your condition doesn''t improve in one month, then..."


    Joshua pressed a finger to her lips, cutting her off with a devastating smile.


    "Then you get the final say."


    The harsh tension knotting her shoulders finally began to dissolve.


    But a sudden thought made her eyes narrow. "And Joshua, if I ever catch you harming yourself again, this entire deal ispletely void."


    "Agreed," he promised softly.


    The following morning, Ste prepared to visit Old Mr. Wyatt to have her hand evaluated.


    Joshua immediately offered to apany her, but she shot the idea down. "Sellers Burton was just released," Ste exined, grabbing her purse. "If Mr. Burton sees you, it''s only going to spark a massive fight.


    You need to keep a low profile right now. Zenia can drive me."


    Zenia was one of her newly hired assistants—and a corporate nt secretly reporting directly to Joshua.


    Ste hadn''t even bothered to call him out on it.


    If he needed to monitor her movements to feel secure, she honestly didn''t care.


    Her sole focus was keeping his illness from spiraling.


    Eager to stay in her good graces, Joshua didn''t push the issue.


    "Alright. Call me the second you need anything."


    He walked her all the way to the front door. The moment her sleek car disappeared down the winding driveway, his warm smile vanished. He pulled out his phone and dialed a secure line.


    "I have a job for you," he ordered, his voice suddenly ice-cold.


    ...


    Old Mr. Wyatt was currently residing at the sprawling Burton family estate, which meant Ste had to pay her respects to Mr. Burton before doing anything else.


    Upon seeing the formidable patriarch, she offered her deepest sympathies regarding Sellers''s horrific injuries and formally apologized on Joshua''s behalf.


    Mr. Burton shot her a dry look and waved a dismissive hand.


    "Save the empty apologies. That kid Sellers is lucky he managed to crawl away from Joshua Gardner with his life... Breathing is good enough."


    The older man paused, a sarcastic sneer twisting his weathered features "That Gardner boy is a ruthless bastard but I suppose n? was generous enough to leave a medical team to patch Sellers up."


    Ste swallowed hard, utterly speechless.


    "Generous" was the absolutest word on earth anyone would use to describe Joshua.


    "I''ve already got my people hunting


    for a specialist for the boy," Mr. Burton muttered, leaning back in his armchair And don''t bother thanking me. I''m just trying to make sure the psycho doesn''t snap and decide to finish Sellers off next week.


    Ste knew the older man had a viciously sharp tongue, but


    considering Sellers was now


    permanently disfigured and


    disabled, Mr. Burton was actually showing an incredible amount of restraint.


    Shifting the conversation, Ste brought up the music therapy idea they had discussed the night before.


    "That''s why I''m here to see Old Mr. Wyatt today. I need to know if my hand can handle extended sessions on the violin."


    Mr. Burton let out a harsh scoff. "You don''t need to bother the old quack for that. I can give you the diagnosis right now: Absolutely not.


    You can y for half an hour a day, tops. Push it any further, and you''ll ruin those tendons for good."