Devilish secretary
Chapter 372 He’s awake

Chapter 372: Chapter 372 He’s awake

Alexander gasped sharply, his chest rising and falling as he shot upright. Sweat clung to his forehead, dripping down his temples as if he had just emerged from fire. His hands gripped the edge of the sheets tightly, knuckles pale.

His eyes wide, red, and glassy stared ahead blankly, as though caught between this world and another. His breathing was shallow at first, quick and desperate, like someone drowning in air. He blinked once. Then again.

The room around him was dim, the pale blue light of the hospital monitor casting soft glows across the walls. The silence rang in his ears like a haunting hum.

And yet, all he could see was her.

Lilith.

The image of her walking away, dressed in dark robes, refusing to look back was burned into his mind like a cruel brand. The way her lips curved for someone else... the way her eyes shone not with anger, but peace without him.

"No..." he muttered under his breath, his voice raspy, like he hadn’t used it in ages.

He clutched his chest as if trying to hold something from falling apart.

He remembered everything.

The world inside his mind.

And most of all—the dream that didn’t feel like a dream.

"Lilith..." he whispered her name like a prayer. His throat ached.

His mind screamed but the bed was empty. The room was empty. She wasn’t here.

Alexander lay back on the hospital bed again, groaning softly as the weight of the dream and reality pressed down on his skull. His head throbbed like drums echoing inside a cave, each beat dragging painful memories and blurry sensations back to the surface. The world felt too loud, even in silence.

His eyes stayed shut.

His body still felt heavy.

But then the hospital door creaked open, and soft footsteps entered the room. .

He didn’t open his eyes.

And then came the voice. That pitiful, guilty voice he knew too well.

"Sir..." Assistant Quinn spoke quietly, almost like he was speaking to a sleeping god. "When are you going to wake up...?"

Alexander’s fingers twitched slightly under the blanket, but he stayed still, listening.

"I didn’t tell Miss Lilith about your condition like you asked me to," Quinn continued, his voice full of guilt and desperation. "I kept your secret, but now... now Miss Lilith is starting to doubt both me and you. And I—I don’t know how much longer I can handle this."

There was a pause. Then Quinn sighed, clearly battling his own panic.

"Please, sir... please wake up..." he whispered, stepping closer to the bed. "Miss Lilith has caught the attention of Jackson... yes, that Jackson—the top male actor, the one with those goddamn abs. And Kai—Sienna’s stepbrother—the one who’s already broken so many hearts? He’s been sending her roses and handwritten letters every week like he’s in some fairytale romance. Even gifts. That guy’s serious."

Alexander’s heartbeat picked up. His face twitched.

"But you... you’re just lying here while all of this is happening. If you don’t wake up now..." Quinn trailed off, then bit his lower lip hard before whispering like a ghost, "Then maybe... when you finally open your eyes, it’ll be too late. Maybe the only thing waiting for you will be Miss Lilith’s wedding."

Quinn sighed again and rubbed his face with both hands. "I really don’t want to dress up and attend her wedding... with someone else."

That’s when he felt it.

A chill ran through the air like a storm cloud had entered the room.

Quinn slowly lowered his hands and blinked.

The inky darkness of Alexander’s eyes cut through the dim lighting like twin shards of obsidian. He was awake. And glaring at him.

Quinn jumped back and gasped. "S-Sir?!"

Alexander’s voice was gravelly, slow, and deeper than usual. "Which one of them... sent roses?"

Quinn froze.

Quinn wasn’t sure which personality of his boss had awakened—after all, with Sebastian Carter, waking up didn’t always mean he had returned. But this one... this cold, sharp-eyed man glaring at him from the bed... this felt like the same boss he faced daily at the company. The one who sent shivers down the entire building just by walking through the door.

So he took a cautious breath and nodded his head quickly.

"His name is Kai," Quinn said, his voice trembling slightly as he adjusted his glasses, "He’s Sienna’s stepbrother. He’s already taking over Blake’s industry... he’s powerful, and he’s charming. He recently showed up at Miss Lilith’s set publicly. People are already shipping them online."

Alexander’s eyes darkened.

Frowning, he sat up slowly, his gaze fixed on the wall as if he was replaying every name Quinn just mentioned. The tension in his jaw tightened. His fingers clenched into the thin blanket over his legs.

Quinn could see it—the silent storm gathering in his boss’s mind.

"And Jackson?" Alexander finally asked, his voice low.

Quinn gulped. "He’s... he’s been working closely with Miss Lilith on her film project. There are photos, sir. Fans adore their chemistry."

Alexander’s frown deepened.

So... while he had been lying unconscious like a broken puppet, others were weaving themselves into her story.

He closed his eyes for a moment, but the flicker of anger and unease was visible in his body.

"Get me my phone," he said without looking at Quinn.

"Y-yes, sir!" Quinn said, rushing forward as if given a second life.

But as he turned to grab the phone which he placed on side table, Quinn couldn’t help the shiver crawling down his spine.

He had a very bad feeling.

Alexander’s thumb paused on the screen.

His sharp eyes slowly moved through the string of messages Quinn had sent to Lilith in his name—sweet little lies wrapped in borrowed warmth.

< Love you, Lilith. I’ll be back soon.>

<I’m on a business trip, love. Just very busy, don’t worry. >

And many more...

Each word felt like a dagger, not because they were lies—but because someone else had said them for him. Someone dared to use his voice, his place in her life, to buy time and peace while he slept, useless and still.

His jaw clenched, lips tightening into a hard line as he looked up at Quinn, who stood proudly at the foot of the bed like a child expecting praise. That ridiculous hopeful smile, like he’d done something heroic.

Quinn had no idea.

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