Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Billionaire Regretted Losing His Invisible Wife: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

**Kyle's POV**I heard the crash of breaking glass followed by Mia's cry, sharp with fear. Something in her voice made my blood run cold. Not her usual quiet distress, but raw panic.My feet were moving before conscious thought kicked in. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached her room just as another cry echoed through the darkness."Help! Somebody help!"The sight that greeted me stopped my heart. Mia was on the floor, surrounded by glittering shards of what must have been the crystal vase from her nightstand. Blood seeped from her foot where she'd stepped on broken glass, but it was her face that caught me—the unfocused eyes, the desperate way her hands reached out into empty air."Mia?" I moved carefully through the glass. "What happened?""I can't—" Her voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't see. I can't see...anything."In twenty years of running K.T. Enterprises, through mergers and crises and billion-dollar deals, I'd never felt anything like this primal fe

**Mia's POV**Darkness has its own texture. By my fourth day without sight, I'd learned its subtle variations—the soft darkness of early morning, different from the heavy darkness of midnight. The doctors kept assuring me it was temporary, just my body's response to stress and dangerously high blood pressure. But knowledge didn't make the fear less real.The gentle chime of my phone cut through my thoughts. I fumbled for it, fingers finding the smooth glass by muscle memory. After three days of practice, I'd finally mastered the voice commands."Hey gorgeous!" Scarlett's voice filled my room through the text-to-speech function. "The contractors need final approval on those therapy room colors. Want to grab lunch and go over samples?"My throat tightened. I hadn't told her about my condition. Scarlett had already taken on so much—coordinating with suppliers, reviewing materials, attending site meetings on my behalf."Sorry, swamped with deadlines," I dictated carefully. "Can you handle

**Mia's POV**"Your vision is definitely improving," Dr. John said as he clicked off his penlight. "Though I have to say, you're recovering faster than expected."I blinked away the afterimages from the examination. "Fast enough to go home?""Eager to escape?" He raised an eyebrow, making another note on my chart."I have materials I need from my room." I tried not to fidget. "And hospital lighting isn't exactly ideal for design work.""Already thinking about work?" He gave me that knowing look doctors seem to perfect in medical school. "Why am I not surprised?"" I managed my best innocent smile. "Please? I'll take it easy, I promise.""Hmm." He studied my chart for what felt like ages. "Blood pressure is stable... vision improving... alright. But there are conditions.""Anything.""Minimal screen time. No driving - get a car service if you need to go somewhere. Sunglasses outside, no exceptions - your eyes will be sensitive for a while." He fixed me with a stern look. "And if you ex

Mia's POVThe morning sun cast long shadows across the construction site as I surveyed what would soon become the children's center. Yellow tape marked the boundaries of our project, and stakes with bright ribbons outlined where the main building would stand. The autumn breeze carried the scent of freshly turned earth and the lingering sweetness of late-blooming wildflowers."The drainage system needs to be adjusted here," I noted, marking the spot on my tablet. The ground sloped slightly more than our initial surveys had indicated, which could affect the garden terracing. "We'll need to factor in additional retaining walls."Sarah, one of the junior architects, made a note. "Should we modify the existing plans for the sensory garden?""No, let's work with the natural grade." I traced the path with my finger. "The slope could actually enhance the waterfall feature. We'll just need to—"A rustle in the tall grass near the property line caught my attention. At first, I thought it might

Mia's POVThe autumn breeze carried the scent of fallen leaves as I watched Gasoline bound across the park lawn, his golden-brown fur catching the morning light. He raced ahead, then circled back, as if making sure I was still following. For a former stray, he'd adapted remarkably fast and well to domestic life - though his enthusiasm sometimes overwhelmed even me."Gasoline!" I called as he charged toward a group of dogs near the walking path. "Be nice!""Interesting name choice," Nate commented beside me, expertly handling the leashes of his three dogs. "Most people go with Max or Buddy.""He named himself, really." I smiled as Gasoline approached Nate's dogs with typical exuberance. "Your three seem very well-behaved.""Meet the gang," Nate gestured to each dog in turn. "Einstein here is the mastermind," he pointed to a dignified grey Weimaraner. "Schrödinger," a black Scottish Terrier, "is simultaneously well-behaved and chaos incarnate. And this little lady," he scratched behind