Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER WOKE UP
Gabriel locked the hospital-room door.
Then he crossed the room and stared at me as though I had just climbed out of a grave.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
My voice barely worked.
My throat felt scraped raw, and every syllable pulled at the burning beneath my bandages.
Gabriel dragged one hand over his face.
“Genevieve…”
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“I don’t want sympathy.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I need to know whether you’re with him.”
His expression changed.
Five minutes earlier, I had heard Christian remind Gabriel that illegal payments carried his signature.
That meant Gabriel wasn’t innocent.
Maybe nobody around Christian was.
Gabriel looked toward the door.
“I’ve covered things for him.”
“What things?”
“Drugs backstage. Women paid to sign nondisclosure agreements. Hotels damaged after parties. A producer he punched in Los Angeles.”
“Crimes?”
His jaw tightened.
“Some.”
“Have you helped him hurt women?”
“No.”
“Did you know about Sabrina?”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt even though I already knew it.
“How long?”
“Almost five years.”
I closed my eyes.
Five years.
Christian and I had been together for five years.
“So from the beginning.”
“Almost.”
“And Leo?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“I knew Sabrina had a child.”
“You didn’t know he was Christian’s?”
“No.”
“Do you expect me to believe that?”
“I suspected.”
“Not good enough.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
Silence settled between us.
The monitor beside my bed continued its calm rhythm while my entire life disintegrated.
I stared at Gabriel.
“Why did you come back?”
“Because I couldn’t leave you alone after what I heard.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He looked away.
Then he pulled his phone from his jacket.
“I recorded him.”
For the first time since waking, hope entered the room.
“What?”
“Not everything.”
He opened an audio file.
“I started recording after he admitted paying the attacker.”
My heart pounded.
“Play it.”
Christian’s voice filled the room.
If she’s left scarred, even better.
My stomach turned.
Then Gabriel’s voice.
You’re sick.
Christian again.
After this, who do you think is going to want her enough to convince her to leave me?
I gripped the blanket.
The recording continued through part of the conversation about Dr. Lawson.
Not enough to establish every detail.
But enough.
Enough to destroy Christian’s public image.
Possibly enough to send him to prison.
I looked at Gabriel.
“Send it somewhere safe.”
“Already did.”
“Where?”
“To three attorneys I trust and an encrypted backup.”
“Good.”
Then another thought struck me.
“Does Christian know you came back?”
“No.”
“Will anyone tell him I’m awake?”
“The nurse knows.”
“Which nurse?”
“Angela.”
I remembered a woman checking my IV before Christian entered.
“Do you trust her?”
“No.”
“Then get her.”
Gabriel frowned.
“What?”
“I need a doctor and a nurse in this hospital who are not being paid by Christian.”
“Genevieve—”
“He arranged this.”
“I know.”
“He controlled my fertility doctor.”
“I know.”
“He paid a man to burn my face.”
My voice broke.
“And he believes I’m unconscious.”
Gabriel stared at me.
I forced myself to stay calm.
“If he learns I heard him, what do you think happens?”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
My injuries had failed to accomplish what Christian wanted.
I was still capable of speaking.
Still capable of exposing him.
That made me dangerous.
Gabriel looked toward the hallway.
“I know someone.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Naomi Reed. Trauma surgeon. She worked on you when you came in.”
“Does Christian control her?”
“No. She hates celebrities.”
“Bring her.”
Gabriel went to the door.
Then stopped.
“There’s something else.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The police arrested someone.”
“The attacker?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“A man they say matches the description.”
My pulse quickened.
“Is it him?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“Because Christian asked me to make sure the real attacker gets out of the country.”
My skin went cold.
“So the police have an innocent man.”
“Maybe.”
I stared at Gabriel.
“This goes beyond destroying me.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I shook my head carefully.
“He’s creating another victim to hide what he did.”
Gabriel said nothing.
“Get Dr. Reed.”
Twenty minutes later, a woman in navy scrubs entered the room.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair pulled into a loose knot and the exhausted eyes of someone who had stopped being impressed by emergencies years ago.
She locked the door.
Then looked directly at me.
“Mr. Collins says you are awake.”
“Apparently.”
A tiny smile.
“Good.”
“Did Christian tell you not to wake me?”
Her expression flattened.
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
She glanced at Gabriel.
Then back to me.
“A man identifying himself as Mr. Prescott’s private physician requested that sedation be continued overnight.”
“Name?”
“Dr. Lawson.”
My stomach turned.
“He’s a fertility specialist.”
“I know.”
“Why would he be making decisions about trauma sedation?”
“He shouldn’t be.”
“Did you follow his request?”
“No.”
That was the first good news I’d heard.
Dr. Reed moved closer.
“I need to explain your injuries.”
I braced myself.
“The chemical exposure affected mainly the right cheek, jawline, and a portion of your neck. Your right eye was protected by your reflex and by how quickly people irrigated the area.”
“My eye?”
“Vision appears intact.”
I almost cried.
She continued.
“You have significant burns, but not the catastrophic destruction people may imagine when they hear the word acid.”
My breath trembled.
“Will I be scarred?”
“Yes.”
The honesty hit harder than comfort would have.
“How badly?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I looked at Gabriel.
He lowered his eyes.
Dr. Reed continued.
“There will be procedures. Scar management. Possibly reconstructive work. Healing will take time.”
“How much time?”
“Months.”
My wedding was seven days away.
The absurdity nearly made me laugh.
Instead I whispered, “I need Christian to believe I’m worse than I am.”
Dr. Reed stared.
Gabriel stared too.
“What exactly are you asking?” she said.
“I need him to believe I’m unconscious.”
“I cannot falsify medical records.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Then what?”
“If he asks whether I’ve regained consciousness, tell him you can’t discuss my neurological status without appropriate authorization.”
“He is your fiancé.”
“Not anymore.”
The words left my mouth before I had fully accepted them.
Not anymore.
Five years vanished inside two words.
Dr. Reed pulled a chair closer.
“Genevieve, you need police protection.”
“No.”
Gabriel frowned.
“Why not?”
“Because Christian already has someone inside the investigation.”
“You don’t know that.”
“The wrong man was arrested within hours.”
Dr. Reed’s expression changed.
I continued.
“And Christian’s career is worth hundreds of millions of dollars. Record executives, sponsors, attorneys, security people—how many of them depend on him?”
Gabriel answered quietly.
“Hundreds.”
“I don’t know who is safe.”
Dr. Reed considered that.
“What do you want?”
I looked at Gabriel.
“First, I want a copy of every medication I was given here.”
Dr. Reed nodded.
“Second, every toxicology result.”
“Yes.”
“Third, nobody except the three of us knows I’m fully awake.”
Gabriel looked troubled.
“You can’t stay unconscious forever.”
“I only need a few hours.”
“For what?”
“To hear what he says next.”
Gabriel stared.
“You want Christian to come back.”
“Yes.”
“That is insane.”
“So was marrying him.”
Dr. Reed almost smiled.
Gabriel did not.
“You don’t understand what he’s capable of.”
I touched the edge of the bandage covering my cheek.
“I understand better than I did yesterday.”
By midnight, we had a plan.
A dangerous one.
Gabriel would tell Christian that doctors were concerned about swelling and planned to keep me sedated.
Dr. Reed would allow no unscheduled medication changes.
A trusted hospital security officer would remain nearby without Christian’s team knowing why.
Meanwhile, Gabriel would contact a criminal attorney named Rebecca Sloan.
Not Christian’s attorney.
Mine.
The most important part was simple.
Christian needed to feel safe enough to keep talking.
At 1:17 in the morning, the door opened.
I closed my eyes.
Christian entered.
He walked quietly.
Sat beside my bed.
Took my hand.
My entire body wanted to recoil.
I forced myself not to.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Then another man entered.
I recognized the voice immediately.
Dr. Lawson.
“I don’t like being here,” Lawson whispered.
Christian sounded irritated.
“She can’t hear you.”
“That’s what you thought last time.”
My pulse jumped.
Last time?
Christian lowered his voice.
“You said the treatments worked.”
“They did.”
“Then why are we still discussing this?”
“Because hospital toxicology may show things you don’t want them looking for.”
I almost opened my eyes.
Christian went silent.
“What things?”
“Not from today.”
Lawson sounded nervous.
“Historical markers. Hormonal irregularities. Depending on what records they request, they could compare medication histories.”
Christian cursed.
“Destroy the old files.”
“I can’t just destroy medical files.”
“You’ve changed them before.”
My heart stopped.
Lawson whispered, “Keep your voice down.”
Christian leaned closer.
“If investigators connect Genevieve’s miscarriages to you, we both go down.”
Lawson answered with a sentence I would remember for the rest of my life.
“The miscarriages aren’t the part I’m worried about.”
Silence.
Then Christian said, “What the hell does that mean?”
Lawson took a breath.
“The third pregnancy didn’t end when she thinks it did.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
Christian stood.
“What?”
Lawson’s voice dropped to almost nothing.
“You told me you never wanted Genevieve to give you a child.”
“I know what I told you.”
“So I arranged it.”
“Arranged what?”
“The baby survived.”
I stopped breathing.
Christian did too.
May you like
Then Lawson whispered,
“And somebody took her.”
