CHAPTER 6: SHE WAS THERE!

ETHAN’S POV

For twenty agonizing days, I had been completely awake.

The crash that night wasn't an accident. The sudden brake failure, the delivery truck barreling down from the opposite lane, and the professional silence of the men who viciously attacked me right after the collision—it was a hit. Someone inside Vance Enterprises wanted me buried before the corporate fraud ledger could reach the board.

So, I gave them exactly what they wanted: a vegetable.

I kept my eyes closed. I let the doctors prod my flesh. I let my parents argue over my succession plans at the foot of my bed as if I were already a corpse. I kept Bruno stationed right by my side as my guard. No one dared come close enough to notice that the comatose billionaire's breathing was perfectly steady. Only Dan knew my vitals were entirely stable. I lay there in the dark, using the silence to catalogue every voice, every footstep, and every threat that crossed my threshold.

Until she walked in.

Her scent cut right through the heavy cedarwood and fresh moss of the room—a sharp, wild note of rain-drenched earth and crushed winter pine graced my system.

My heart stopped for a beat.

Six months ago, right before my vision blurred after the windshield shattered into my face, that exact scent had filled the humid night air.

Someone with that exact scent had stood over my crumpled car with the truck men and before my vision darkened.

she has to be the one that day.

I was vividly, entirely sure of it. My instincts wouldn't lie—they never had.

I cracked my eyes open for a fraction of a second when she first stood over the bed. An ivory dress, a pale face, and worn-out shoes. But before I could even process her appearance, she turned and shouted to the room that I had opened my eyes. I spent the next few seconds silently praying for her to shut up before she ruined everything.

Good thing the doctors dismissed her as hysterical.

Right then, I realized her presence here wasn't a coincidence either. She had to be after something. She had undoubtedly been sent to facilitate the hit that night, and now she had been sent to finish the job under the guise of being my surrogate.

Good thing I have Bruno by my side, I thought.

Inwardly, I silently prayed that she would be the one person my hound finally tore to pieces.

But to my utter disbelief, Bruno simply wagged his tail for her.

The beast I had spent years training to kill—the same beast that had dug his long claws into a prime minister's daughter and ripped a governor's daughter to shreds—was wagging his damn tail for a complete stranger.

Elena Stewart.

That wasn't even the worst part.

She walked right up and shoved her hands into my hair. Who the hell gave her that right? Wasn't she warned that I absolutely loathed it?

I wanted to slice those worthless hands off right then, but I forced the urge down so my plans wouldn't be ruined.

For a few seconds, I actually thought I would be able to successfully hide my physical recovery. But the moment her bare hand accidentally brushed against my skin, I completely lost control.

My pulse spiked erratically, causing the vitals monitor to vibrate and beep with warning signals.

Before I could recover, she panicked, losing her balance on the floorboards and pitching forward directly over me.

Our faces collided. The momentum pressed her lips briefly, squarely against mine.

I lost all control.

My eyes flew open, burning with fire. My hand shot out from beneath the sheets like a striking viper, clamping hard around her wrist.

"How dare you," I growled, the threat ripping raw and dangerous from the depths of my throat.

She froze, her pupils dilating in pure panic. Her breath hitched, hot and ragged against my face. With a desperate wrench, she pulled back, staring at me as if she had just seen a ghost rise from the grave.

"Yo... you're awake?" she whispered, her voice trembling with a terrifying blend of shock and realization.

I didn't waste time with excuses. My spoken word had already sealed it—there was no need going back to the coma now.

I forced my aching, battered torso up, leaning heavily against the headboard. Hot agony flared across my ribs, but I didn't let a single flicker of it touch my face. I kept my gaze levelled on her, cold and absolute.

"You're really awake..." Elena's eyes darted toward the door. She pointed a shaking finger. "I have to call the doctors. I need to tell—"

She turned to bolt.

I lunged. My fingers wrapped around her wrist again, dragging her back with a force that sent her tumbling onto the mattress. Before she could let out a cry, I shifted my weight, pinning her down and driving my palm firmly over her mouth, muffling her voice into a desperate gasp.

"You won't call anyone," I warned, my voice dropping into a dark threat. "You breathe a word of this outside this room, and I will ensure you never see the next minute."

I expected her to cower. I expected her to nod submissively, the way any other girl would in this situation.

Instead, I felt the muscles in her arm go rigid.

With a sudden, blindingly twist of her hips, she shifted her center of gravity. Before my injured body could counter, she rolled me onto my back, using my own momentum to throw me beneath her.

In a fraction of a second, she pinned both of my wrists hard against the pillows above my head.

My breath caught, my chest heaving against the sudden strain as I stared up at the woman pinning me down.

Who the hell is she?

That movement wasn't luck. It was perfect technical move.

My suspicions were right—no ordinary woman could have moved like that.

Something is definitely wrong.

I forced my face to remain a mask of stone, hiding the sudden spike of shock in my eyes.

"Do you have a death wish?"