All Chapters of The Antidote To His Ruin : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Suzan’s POV“What is it?”Draven’s voice sliced through the heavy tension of the conference room.I looked up from my laptop. He wasn't asking casually. His sharp gray eyes had already flicked from Edward to me, then locked onto the raw data streaming across the main monitor at the head of the table.Something in his sheer presence made the expansive room feel suddenly suffocating.I swallowed, forcing my voice into a steady, professional register. “Someone accessed the core synthesis database at 2:17 a.m. on a Sunday.”Draven walked toward us, his long strides silent on the carpet. “Who?”“Michael Hale’s security credentials.”His jaw tightened. “Michael was at his home during that period.”“Exactly.” Edward rotated his laptop screen toward him. “That’s where the anomaly starts.”Draven stopped directly behind my chair. Close. Far too close. Even without turning around, I could feel the heat radiating off him, catching the faint, familiar scent of his sensational cologne that always

Suzan’s POVEdward nodded slowly, his face hardening. "And that is what's keeping you from breathing.""Yes," I admitted, the confession leaving my chest in a shaky exhaled breath. Once the dam broke, the truth spilled out in a rush. "The calls... they aren't random corporate intimidation. They knew me. They knew the exact timeframe of when I left Manhattan five years ago. They mentioned her."Edward’s jaw set hard. "Tell me the exact wording of the text again."I pulled my phone from my blazer pocket, unlocked the screen, and slid it across the wood to him.He read the encrypted message once. Then again. His face transformed into a mask of pure, cold anger. "This isn't an amateur troll looking for a quick payout.""No.""Someone is executing a calculated psychological attack against you.""I know.""And you're certain it's linked directly to the drug formula alteration?"I looked him dead in the eye. "I don't just think it, Edward. I am positive."Edward leaned back in his chair, fol

Draven’s POVBy five in the morning, my phone was already vibrating itself toward the edge of the nightstand.I ignored it.It vibrated again.Then again.I opened my eyes with the vague hope that perhaps the world had decided to collapse quietly while I slept.Apparently, it had chosen violence instead.I reached for the phone.The first notification was from my communications director:URGENT: MEDIA STORY ESCALATING.The second came from investor relations:MULTIPLE INSTITUTIONAL INVESTORS REQUESTING CLARIFICATION.The third was from my chief legal counsel:WE NEED AN EMERGENCY BOARD MEETING.I frowned.Then I opened the news feed.And immediately regretted it.My face was everywhere.So was Suzan's.An old photograph from our wedding dominated the top of the screen.We looked young.Too young.Two strangers standing beside each other beneath an expensive floral arrangement while everyone around us celebrated a marriage neither of us understood.The headline read:STERLING'S EX-WIFE

Suzan’s POVI spent the next four days living like a ghost inside the high-containment wing.Day merged into night, marked only by the shifting tint of the Manhattan sky visible through the thick, reinforced windows at the far end of the corridor. I barely slept. I didn't step outside the building once. The lab had become my entire universe, a sterile cocoon of humming centrifuges, glowing data displays, and the harsh, biting smell of chemical reagents.Outside, the storm had turned into a hurricane.The media was eating me alive. The accusation hurled at me on the plaza, that I had engineered the chemical sabotage myself to force Draven into dependence, had taken on a terrifying life of its own. Financial blogs dissected my every past publication. Legal pundits debated whether I should be subpoenaed by federal regulators. Anonymous sources quoted "insiders" who claimed I was a bitter ex-wife out for blood and money.Inside the lab, I fought back the only way I knew how: with absolu

Suzan’s POVThirty minutes later, a nurse finally appeared at the end of the corridor. “You can see her now. She’s awake, but she’s still very weak.”Draven immediately straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall, his whole posture going taut. “Thank you.”The nurse glanced between the two of us, taking in Draven’s unbuttoned collar. “She needs rest.”“I understand,” Draven said. He turned his storm-gray eyes on me. “Come on.”I followed him through the quiet, carpeted recovery wing, my heart hammering a strange, erratic beat against my ribs.When we pushed open the heavy wooden door to Eleanor’s room, the first thing I noticed was how tiny she looked. The woman who had once seemed larger than life, the formidable matriarch who commanded every room with understated grace, was lying beneath a plain hospital blanket. An IV line was taped to the thin back of her hand, and a monitor hummed softly in the corner, tracking her vital signs.Her eyes were closed.I stopped shor