News Flash

Renee’s POV

The steady beep of the heart monitor pulled me from the darkness. My eyelids fluttered open to stark white walls and the sharp sting of antiseptic in my nose. For a long moment, my body felt disconnected, numb, heavy, like it belonged to someone else. 

Then the ache crept in: dull throbs along my spine from the fall, a lingering soreness in my abdomen that made every breath feel careful.

I shifted, wincing as the hospital gown tugged against bruised skin. The room was dim, curtains drawn against the late-afternoon light. Empty. No Draven. No flowers, no worried face hovering over me. Just the cold beep-beep-beep and the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

The image flashed unbidden: Draven’s broad back retreating through the pried-open elevator doors, Linda cradled in his arms like something precious. He hadn’t even looked back. Not once. My hand had stretched toward him, fingers grasping air, while pain ripped through my stomach and tears burned my eyes. “My baby…” I’d whispered to no one. He’d chosen her. Again.

Thirst clawed at my throat, raw and insistent. I pushed myself up slowly, ignoring the protest of sore muscles, and shuffled toward the water dispenser in the corner. 

Each step sent a dull twinge through my lower belly, a reminder of the fall, of the terror when the elevator dropped. I pressed a hand there instinctively, protective, as if I could shield what was inside from everything that had already happened.

Voices drifted through the thin wall, low, intimate. Familiar.

I froze. Draven’s deep voice, soft in a way I’d rarely heard. And Linda’s, trembling with tears.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I edged closer to the shared wall, then to the door separating our rooms. I pressed my ear to the gap, breath held.

“This isn’t fair,” Linda was saying, voice thick with sobs. “I came back for you, Draven. After everything… I waited years. But I can’t even be with you now.”

Draven’s sigh was heavy, weary. “You know why we can’t. No one approved. Grandfather especially, he made that clear when he found out.”

“But Grandfather’s gone,” she pressed, voice rising. “He can’t disapprove anymore. You control the company now. The family. Everything. We could finally…”

“Now isn’t the time, Linda.” His tone sharpened. “He just passed. All eyes are on me, the board, the press, the shareholders. If word got out that I’m… involved with my stepsister… imagine the scandal.”

Linda’s crying paused, like she was gathering herself. When she spoke again, her words cut like glass. “Have you fallen for her? That… wench you call a wife?”

Silence. Thick, suffocating silence.

My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the gasp. The world tilted. One minute. Two. He said nothing.

Linda’s sobs resumed, raw and broken. “It’s unfair! She’s taken my place. I should be the one standing by your side, not her. I’ve always been there for you. Through everything.”

Goosebumps raced across my skin. I stood frozen, a statue in the doorway, as the pieces slammed into place with brutal clarity. The too-close “sibling” moments. The necklace he’d “forgotten” was for me. The way he lit up around her, smiled with teeth he never showed me. 

The rushed proposal after Grandfather’s ultimatum, laughing at first, then proposing the next night like it was nothing. I’d told myself he was just shocked, adjusting. But no. All along, he’d been in love with her. His stepsister. The one Grandfather forbade.

I’d been the convenient fix. The placeholder.

I retreated to my bed in a daze, legs unsteady. I sat on the edge, staring at the blank wall, unblinking. The tears I’d fought earlier burned behind my eyes, but they wouldn’t fall. Not yet. Instead, a cold numbness spread through my chest like falling into an icy abyss, the kind where you sink slowly, no fight left.

How many times had I excused his distance? Told myself the coldness was grief, stress, the weight of the CEO title? How many nights had I waited up, hoping for a scrap of affection, while he stayed late “working”? And all this time… her.

The door finally opened. Draven stepped in, still in yesterday’s rumpled shirt. The faint scent of Linda’s perfume, sweet floral, clung to him like a brand.

“How are you feeling?” He sat on the edge of the bed, casual, like nothing had happened.

I shifted away, putting space between us. The smell made my stomach churn.

“Are you mad about the elevator?” he asked, frowning slightly.

I stared at the wall. “You left me there. Bleeding. In pain. And you carried her out first.”

“I told you, she’s claustrophobic. Has been since we were kids. She would’ve panicked worse if I hadn’t gotten her out fast. You’re stronger than that, Renee. You understand.”

Stronger. The word landed like a slap. He thought he’d done nothing wrong. That I was being unreasonable for wanting my husband to choose me, his pregnant wife over his stepsister. For the first time, the illusion cracked completely. This wasn’t just neglect. It was indifference. Deep, bone-level indifference.

“Do you even know if I’m claustrophobic?” My voice came out quiet, sad. “You don’t know anything about me. You never asked. You never cared.”

He exhaled, irritated. “I don’t know why you make everything a big deal. She has a real medical condition. I had to help my sister.”

Sister. The word twisted like a knife. I shut my eyes, inhaling slowly. He hadn’t come to apologize. He’d come to justify. To make me the problem.

“And what about my condition?” I whispered.

Loud footsteps interrupted. The door pushed open. A nurse hurried in, chart in hand.

“Is the husband here yet?” She didn’t wait for an answer, eyes flicking between us. “The patient’s condition is very serious. We’re looking at severe malnutrition, anemia… any more stimulation, emotional or physical, could cause loss of the…”

“Stop!” I shouted, the word bursting out before I could stop it. My hands flew to my stomach, protective, terrified.