Contract Marriage: The President's Stand-in Lover - Chapter 11:

The Night Watch

Gu Chen’s efficiency was astonishing.

Once Vivian locked onto the key suspect, Zhao Qian, his team moved with lightning speed

collecting evidence, coordinating with the police, and arresting Zhao Qian just

before she could flee the country. The crisis at Lin Corporation wasn’t completely over yet,

but the most dangerous leaks and internal corruption had finally been contained.

Days of tension, sleepless nights, and constant worry for her father had pushed

Vivian to her breaking point. That evening, she had barely stepped through the door of the villa

after returning from the foundation when her phone shrilled in her bag.

The caller ID made her bl00d run cold it was her father’s attending physician.

A sense of dread seized her chest.

Miss Lin, please come to the hospital immediately.

Your father became emotionally agitated and suffered acute angina.

He’s in emergency care right now.

The doctor’s urgent voice shattered her. Color drained from her face,

the phone nearly slipped from her trembling hand.

One thought echoed wildly in her mind: Emergency care.

Her lips quivered. No… no, it can’t be…

She stumbled toward the door, not even remembering to call the driver.

Her bag clutched in one hand, she ran blindly, almost crashing into the doorway

until a firm hand caught her arm.

Gu Chen’s deep voice came from behind her.

What’s wrong?

She turned, her face white as paper, tears welling instantly.

Her words tangled together between sobs. Hospital… my father… emergency…

Gu Chen’s expression darkened. Without hesitation, he made the decision.

I’ll take you there.

He didn’t let go of her hand. Instead, he half-supported, half-carried her toward the garage,

placed her gently in the passenger seat, and got behind the wheel himself.

The car shot out of the villa like an arrow loosed from a bow.

On the way, Vivian sat rigid, biting her lip, tears falling silently.

Fear made her body tremble uncontrollably. Gu Chen said nothing,

his attention fixed on the road. The car moved fast but steady.

Now and then, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye she looked so fragile, so lost,

like a child who’d wandered too far from home. The usual spark of pride or distance in

her eyes was gone, washed away by tears and raw panic.

He freed one hand and gently covered her cold, clenched fist.

Don’t be afraid.

He’ll be all right.

His voice was low but steady, carrying a strange power that steadied the air between them.

That warmth dry, firm, and real seemed to pass through her skin straight to her heart.

Instinctively, Vivian gripped his hand in return, desperate, clinging to it like a lifeline.

Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t pull away.

When they reached the hospital, Vivian ran down the corridor toward the emergency room.

The red light above the door was still on—sharp, cold, slicing at her heart.

She leaned weakly against the wall, staring at that closed door as if sheer will could open it.

Gu Chen stood beside her, silent and steady. He didn’t speak empty comfort,

he simply was there solid, grounded, immovable, a quiet mountain she could lean on.

Minutes crawled by like centuries. Finally, the light went out. The door opened.

Vivian rushed forward. Doctor, how is my father?

The doctor removed his mask, exhaustion softening into relief.

The rescue was successful. He’s out of immediate danger, but his body is very weak.

He needs absolute rest no emotional stress at all.

The tight string inside her snapped. Her knees gave way, and she nearly collapsed,

but Gu Chen caught her, one arm firm around her waist.

Thank you, doctor, he said calmly.

Inside the ward, her father lay pale and unconscious, breathing through an oxygen mask.

Vivian sat by his bedside, holding his cold hand, tears silently spilling again

this time from a mixture of fear and heartbreak.

Gu Chen stepped out to speak with the doctors, asking about treatment plans and precautions.

When he returned, he saw her thin back hunched beside the bed, small and lonely in the sterile

light. His brows furrowed slightly.

You should go home and rest.

I’ll have someone stay here with him, he said quietly.

Vivian shook her head hard. Her voice was hoarse but firm.

No. I’m staying with my father.

He knew that look there was no point in arguing. So he said nothing more and left the room.

She thought he had gone home, and a faint, unspoken sense of loss brushed her heart.

But a few minutes later, the door opened again. Gu Chen came back, carrying a paper bag.

Eat something, he said, handing it to her. Inside was warm porridge and a few light dishes.

If your father wakes up and sees you like this, he’ll only worry more.

His tone was practical, but the words pierced straight into her chest.

She realized she hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since noon.

Her body was drained. Quietly, she took the food.

Thank you, she murmured.

She sipped the porridge slowly. Warmth spread from her stomach, easing the chill in her body

and perhaps, just a little, the chill in her heart.

Night deepened. The only sounds were the rhythmic beeps of the monitors and

her father’s steady breathing. Vivian refused to leave his side. Gu Chen didn’t insist.

He sat on the sofa by the wall, working quietly on his tablet.

The soft glow of the screen cast a calm light across his sharp, composed face.

At some point, exhaustion pulled her under. She fell asleep, her head resting on the bed’s edge.

In the half-sleep between dream and waking, she felt something warm settle over her shoulders

a coat, faintly carrying the scent of cedar and him. The gesture was so gentle,

as if he was afraid of breaking the moment.

She didn’t open her eyes, but her heart remembered the touch.

Later that night, her father stirred awake. His gaze, unfocused,

fell on his daughter at the bedside, then shifted to the tall figure sitting nearby.

His lips moved weakly.

Gu Chen rose and came closer.

Lin Senior’s voice was faint but clear.

Gu Chen… An’an… I’ll leave her to you.

Gu Chen bent down slightly and answered, calm and solemn.

You have my word. I’ll take care of her.

There was no hesitation, only quiet conviction.

Vivian, half-asleep, heard the words. Her heart jolted soft, painful, and strangely warm.

Her father seemed reassured. His eyes drifted closed again.

When dawn crept through the blinds, Vivian woke. A coat lay over her shoulders his coat.

Gu Chen still sat on the sofa, looking as composed as ever despite the faint shadows under his eyes.

He closed his laptop and stood. I asked Mrs. Wang to prepare some soup and porridge.

She’ll bring it soon. There’s an important meeting at the company this morning,

but I’ll be back in the afternoon.

His voice was steady as always, but something gentler lingered beneath the calm.

You didn’t sleep all night? she asked, her voice still husky from sleep.

He paused while straightening his cufflinks, then met her gaze.

I’m fine.

At the door, he stopped and turned back. His tone softened, almost like a quiet warning.

Take care of yourself. Don’t push too hard.

Then he was gone.

Vivian looked down at the coat in her arms, still warm, still carrying his scent.

Watching his retreating figure, her heart filled with emotions she couldn’t name.

His vigil through the night, that promise to her father, the awkward yet sincere care

all of it glowed faintly in her chest, pushing back the shadows born from doubt and old wounds.

Maybe Gu Chen’s heart wasn’t as cold or unyielding as he made it seem.

Beneath that steel exterior, there might be something softer something he rarely showed anyone.

And that gentleness… it stirred her more than any fierce passion or calculated deal ever could.

It also terrified her.

She feared that she might fall too deeply. That his warmth wasn’t truly hers.

That when the illusion broke, she would be left with nothing but heartbreak.

But for now, holding that coat close and feeling the lingering warmth,

she allowed herself just this once to sink into the fragile, fleeting comfort of it.