Chapter 3

The first thing I felt was the ache in my chest. It wasn't sharp. It was dull and heavy, like someone had placed a rock on top of my ribs and left it there for days. My head pounded too, and my lips were dry. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something soft, lavender, maybe.

I blinked my eyes open slowly.

The room was too bright at first, with sunlight leaking through tall glass windows covered in sheer white curtains. The ceiling above me was high, painted ivory, with gold trimming. I wasn't in a hospital. But I definitely wasn't home, either.

Where am I?

I turned my head, every muscle in my neck protesting.

Then it came rushing back.

The wedding.

Daniel.

Lucy.

The pool.

The blood.

The knife.

I gasped softly and winced as the pain struck deeper in my ribs. I tried to sit up, but I couldn't. My arms gave out.

I was alive.

That's when I saw him.

A man was seated in the armchair beside my bed. His elbows were on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his lips, eyes fixed on the floor like he was lost in thought.

His suit was dark, midnight black, and sharp. He looked like one of those magazine men, the ones who never smile, but still manage to make your heart race. His hair was neat, slightly messy, as though he had been running his hand through it all night. His jaw was strong, and his face had that quiet strength you don't notice until it's staring you in the face.

He looked up when he noticed I was awake.

His eyes are soft brown with gold flecks met mine. I froze.

"Hey," he said, voice low and careful. "You're awake."

I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My throat was too dry.

He reached for a bottle of water and poured some into a glass, then gently helped me sit up and brought it to my lips.

I drank, shaky and slow.

When I finally had enough strength to whisper, I asked,

"Who are you?"

He set the glass down and looked me in the eyes.

"Benjamin Grey."

The name made my heart pause for a second. Grey...

Grey Global Enterprise.

"You're... the CEO?"

He gave a small nod. "Yes."

My voice cracked. "What am I doing here?"

He didn't answer right away.

"I was invited to your wedding by Mr. Blackwood," he said finally. "I stepped out to take a smoke and... I saw you by the pool."

His voice was calm, steady. Almost too steady.

"You were in a pool of blood. Lying on the floor. Barely breathing. I checked your pulse. It was faint, but still there. I called the ambulance immediately."

My chest tightened as I listened. It felt like I was watching someone else's story.

"You've been in a coma for a month," he added.

My breath caught. "A month?" And my family didn't even bother to look for me.

Benjamin gave a slow nod. "You're lucky to be alive."

I didn't feel lucky.

I felt broken.

"Why would anyone... do this to me?" My voice trembled.

Benjamin reached for a black folder on the nearby desk and brought it to me. He placed it gently on my lap.

"I checked the security footage the day after your wedding," he said, still without any emotion. "I knew it was something bad when I saw you, the soon-to-be bride—in a that state. I needed to know what happened."

I opened the folder with shaky hands. There were printed images inside. The pool. Me sitting with my eyes closed.

A man in a black hoodie approached me from behind.

The knife.

I felt my stomach turn. My hands trembled.

"I traced the man," Benjamin said. "It took a few days, but I found him."

He walked toward the window and stood there, his back straight, his voice still calm.

"He wouldn't talk at first. So I made him talk."

I looked up, confused. "What do you mean?"

He turned around slowly. "I told my boys to take him to a warehouse. Tied him to a chair. Told him l would break every bone in his body if he didn't tell me who sent him."

A chill went down my spine.

"And he talked," Benjamin continued. "He told me who paid him. Who gave him your location. Who told him to make sure you didn't survive."

I sat there frozen.

He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and handed it to me.

It was a video recording.

The same man from the picture. Crying. Talking fast.

His face was bruised.

"She paid me to kill her," he said in the video. "To make sure I find any means to kill her, even if it was inside the dressing room. She promised extra cash if I made it quick. And thankfully she came outside."

I looked at Benjamin. My throat was dry.

"Who?" I whispered. "Who paid him?"

He looked at me with steady eyes. "Lucy."

I couldn't breathe. I dropped the phone.

"No..." I whispered. "She wouldn't..."

But I already knew.

Deep down, I had always known something was wrong with her. She hated me for sure. I knew that. But paying someone to kill me? I didn't expect that from her.

"She's my sister," I said. But the words didn't feel real anymore.

"She tried to kill you," Benjamin replied, unmoved.

"And almost succeeded."

Tears rolled down my cheeks. I didn't wipe them. I let them fall.

"She took everything from me," I whispered.

Benjamin nodded once. "But she doesn't know you're alive."

I stared down at the photos. My blood. My dress. The knife.

And something in me snapped.

The pain in my chest wasn't just from the wounds anymore. It was something sharper. Deeper. Hate.

" I want revenge," I said, my voice cold. "She doesn't get to win. Not after this.”

“I figured you would,” Benjamin said.

“Why did you help me?” I asked him. “Why are you helping me?

Benjamin said nothing. He simply walked to the door, opened it halfway, then turned back to look at me.

"I can’t stay much now," he said. “Just know that I’m your secret admirer.”

Then he left.

And I lay back on the bed, eyes open, my heart beating louder than ever. Secret admirer? What does he mean by that?

But still all I could think of was how to make Lucy and Daniel pay for what they did. Especially Lucy.

She thought I was gone.

But I'm still here.

And I'm coming back.