Chapter 2

In the hospital room, Cassandra sat quietly on the bed as several doctors and nurses busied themselves examining her. She had pressed the call button herself to let the nurses' station know she was awake. After being trapped in a coma for five years, she'd had enough of merely existing. Now that she was finally awake, one thing was certain—she was getting a divorce. Cassandra could accept that her youth had gone to waste. But she was determined to reclaim her wealth, career, and most of all, her two children. She wouldn't let Gregory, that jerk, walk away with everything. Her ultimate goal was to strip him of custody and leave him with nothing. But after five lost years, she needed time to prepare for the divorce. Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra caught sight of Gregory's jacket outside the door. It was time. "Dr. Reed, what's wrong with my eyes?" Cassandra asked, feigning panic. "Why can't I see anything the moment I wake up?" Gregory had just stepped into the room when he heard those words. He frowned and walked to her bedside, concern written all over his face. "Cass," he called softly. The sound of his voice made Cassandra sick. Still, she forced down her disgust. "Gregory, you're finally here." Her eyes were vacant, and pretending to be blind, she felt her way toward him until she found his arms. The moment she leaned in, she caught the faint scent of a woman's perfume on him. "Gregory, I'm scared. I can't see you…" Gregory held her close, his voice soft as he reassured her, "Don't be afraid. I'm right here. No matter what it costs, I'll make sure you see again." At that moment, David spoke up, "Don't worry, Mr. Hart. There's no serious damage to her eyes. She's just been in a coma for too long, and her optic nerves haven't fully recovered yet." "How long will it take for her vision to return, then?" Gregory pressed. David hesitated. He was clearly unwilling to make any promises. "It depends on her recovery. It could take a couple of months or longer. It's hard to say." Cassandra leaned weakly against Gregory's chest, her frail posture betraying nothing of the chill in her eyes. She felt the tension in his body ease. A woman who might never regain her sight was enough to make him lower his guard. Cassandra seized the chance to make her request. "Gregory, I don't want to stay in the hospital. Take me home. When my eyes are healed, the first thing I want to see is you and the children." "Mr. Hart, bringing her back to a familiar environment will likely help her eyes recover," David added. Gregory considered for a moment, then agreed to take her home immediately. Her legs were still too weak to walk. So, he borrowed a wheelchair and wheeled her downstairs. Cassandra remembered the way Gregory had just held Olivia, and the thought almost made her laugh. He could embrace another woman, but he couldn't bring himself to touch his own wife. There was a mirror in the elevator. Through her sunglasses, Cassandra studied Gregory's reflection behind her. Five years had passed, and he was as handsome as ever. If anything, he now carried the allure of a man in his prime. She, on the other hand, looked pitifully thin. It was as if he had bled the life out of her. In this marriage, he had indeed drained her dry. … Meanwhile, after Gregory and Cassandra left, David quietly dialed a number. "Mr. Lockwood, Mrs…" He almost bit his tongue in a panic. Flustered, he corrected himself and continued, "I mean, Ms. Monroe is finally awake." … Downstairs, Cassandra scanned her surroundings without betraying a flicker of emotion. There was no sign of Olivia, Noelle, or Ashton. She figured they must have left already. Gregory wheeled her to the passenger side and opened the door. The first thing she saw was a Chanel lipstick lying on the seat. He glanced at her, picked up the lipstick without a word, and slipped it into his pocket. Then, as if nothing had happened, he settled her into the passenger seat. "Gregory, in the five years I was in a coma, did any other woman ever sit in this seat?" Cassandra asked softly. "Of course not," he denied flatly. After a pause, he teased, "Everyone in the city knows my wife is notoriously fierce. You had the guts to storm an abductor's hideout with a gun, after all." She was fierce, indeed, and not without reason. Not long after they got married, Gregory was abducted. With the police making little progress, Cassandra was beside herself with worry. So, she pulled every string and called in every favor until she finally learned where he was. She had gone with nothing but a case full of cash and a gun, ready to stake her life for his. He had once sworn he'd never let her down. The traffic light ahead turned red, and the car came to a steady stop just behind the crosswalk. Suddenly, Gregory turned to Cassandra. "Cass, what did it feel like, being in a coma for five years?" Behind her sunglasses, she watched impassively as he reached for her hand. "It felt like I was trapped in a long dream. Everything's dark. There was no sound or light. I-It was terrifying." Hearing the answer he wanted, Gregory finally relaxed. He patted her hand gently and said, "It's all over now, Cass. We're going home." "Yes. It's all over," Cassandra replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. It was over between them. From here on, it was time to settle the score. The light turned green, and Gregory stepped on the accelerator. As the car pulled smoothly ahead, a black Maybach sped past from the opposite lane. When the cars brushed past each other, Cassandra's face—hidden behind her sunglasses—flitted across the Maybach's tinted rear window. In the car, a man sat shrouded in shadow. His features were sharply defined, and he carried an air of cold detachment. But when Cassandra's face flickered past, something in him stirred. Theodore Lockwood's eyes widened as he lowered the window, his gaze following her vehicle into the distance. His assistant, Wesley Kirk, glanced back from the passenger seat and asked, "What's wrong, Mr. Lockwood?" He had never seen Theodore lose his composure before. "Nothing," Theodore answered. The Bentley sped off, soon disappearing into the distance. Only then did he finally look away. Not far away, the Nimbus Group sign blazed against the night sky, bold and commanding. Theodore's eyes narrowed slightly. A thought crossed his mind, and the corners of his lips curled into a mocking smile. "Cassandra Monroe," he whispered hoarsely. Beneath the calm, cool tone of his voice lay a trace of tenderness. "Was it worth it?"