All Chapters of His Heart Stopped.. Mine Was Sold: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I sat in the living room with my mother, watching the television that Mabel had turned on twenty minutes ago. The news channel was showing a live feed from Emmanuel Holdings headquarters, where reporters crowded a media room on the ground floor.A banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen: "BREAKING: Victor Emmanuel, believed to be in permanent vegetative state, to address media. Sources confirm CEO is alive and fully recovered."My mother gripped my hand. "Lord have mercy," she breathed. "This is real.""It is real, Mom."The camera focused on a podium at the front of the room. Behind it, the Emmanuel Holdings logo glowed on a massive screen. Reporters filled every seat, their voices creating a low hum of anticipation.Then the side door opened, and Victor walked out.My breath caught. He moved with purpose, each step measured and strong. The cane in his right hand barely touched the floor. His jaw was set, his shoulders square, his dark eyes scanning the room with the calm aut

The hospital corridor was bright and sterile, and I ran through it with Christopher and the two guards struggling to keep pace behind me. My shoes squeaked on the polished floor. Nurses looked up from their stations. A doctor called out for me to slow down.I did not slow down.Room 302. The door was open. A nurse stood inside, checking monitors. And in the bed, propped up by pillows, with tubes running from his arms and a breathing mask loose around his chin...My father's eyes were open.Brown, warm, alive. Looking right at me."Daddy," I breathed.His lips moved. The sound that came out was thin and cracked, like paper tearing. But I heard it."Shaz... nay."I crossed the room in two strides and grabbed his hand. His fingers closed around mine, weak but present. Tears blurred my vision and spilled down my cheeks without permission."I am here, Daddy. I am right here."His eyes roamed my face. Confusion clouded them. He did not understand where he was, or how long he had been gone.

The next three days passed in a blur of quiet preparation. Victor and his team worked around the clock, gathering evidence, coordinating with Moses, and securing the mansion against Tonia's hidden informant.Jackson found the spy on the second day. One of the new housekeepers, a woman named Rita, had been hired through a staffing agency owned by a subsidiary of Crescent Holdings. Valda's company. The same web of shell corporations that connected every thread of this conspiracy back to a single poisonous center.Victor did not fire Rita. He did not confront her. Instead, he followed the same strategy he used with the listening device: he kept her in place and controlled what she saw."She reports to Tonia through encrypted messages," Jackson explained during our evening briefing. "Short texts. Times, locations, overheard conversations. Nothing complex.""Then we feed her what we want Tonia to hear," Victor said.For two days, we built a careful illusion. Mabel kept Rita busy with tasks

Millicent arrived at the mansion the next afternoon in a taxi. She wore a plain brown dress and flat shoes, and her eyes were wide as they swept across the iron gates and armed guards that flanked the entrance.I met her at the front door. She stopped on the steps and stared at me with an expression caught between guilt and relief."Shaznay," she breathed. "You look... different.""A lot has changed, Auntie.""I can see that." Her eyes moved to the guards, to the cameras mounted above the doorframe, to the polished foyer beyond. "Your husband does not do things by half.""No. He does not." I held the door open. "Come inside."I led her to the sitting room where Victor waited in a leather chair by the window. He did not stand when Millicent entered. He simply watched her with those dark, calculating eyes.Millicent froze in the doorway. "He is...""Awake. Alert. And aware of everything you have been doing." I gestured to the sofa. "Sit down, Auntie. We need to talk."Millicent lowered

The address in Millbrook led to a small cottage on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and separated from the nearest neighbor by a quarter mile of open field. Jackson positioned his team in the tree line, invisible but close. He pressed an earpiece into my hand."If anything goes wrong, say the word and we come in.""What word?""Pick one.""Sunlight."Jackson raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He retreated to the perimeter, and I walked alone to the cottage door.It opened before I could knock.Angela Osei was shorter than I expected. Five foot three, with close-cropped hair and wide, intelligent eyes behind round glasses. She wore jeans and a grey sweater, and her hands were steady as she stepped aside to let me in.The cottage was sparse. A table, two chairs, a small kitchen. No decoration. No personal items. The home of someone who had learned to travel light."Sit," Angela said. Her voice was soft, precise. The voice of a scientist.I sat. She sat across from me and fold