Axel’s jaw tightened. "And the one pulling the strings?"
"We found lead, someone who has contact with Natalie Martinez’s personal assistant," Ethan admitted.
A cold smile flickered across Axel’s face, sharp and humorless. "Good. She is my number one suspect!"
"I’ll keep digging into it and report to you early in the morning," Ethan said. "Get some rest, if you can, Axel..."
"Hmm..." Axel ended the call without another word.
He returned to Evelyn’s side, sitting down once more and reclaiming her hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.
"Eve... My love... I promise you, whoever did this," Axel murmured, voice low and dangerous, "won’t get a second chance."
After he gently kissed the back of her hand, Axel leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes to rest.
Several minutes passed in quiet stillness.
He sat beside her bed, head bowed, one hand resting near hers as if afraid she might disappear if he let go. Didn’t take long; exhaustion finally pulled him into a shallow sleep.
...
Axel didn’t notice when Evelyn’s fingers twitched faintly against the sheets.
A second later, her eyelashes fluttered. Light seeped in slowly, painfully.
Evelyn’s first conscious breath felt wrong, shallow and tight, as if her chest were wrapped in invisible wires.
Her body felt stiff, heavy, and uncooperative. Every attempt to move sent unfamiliar aches rippling through her arms, her legs, her ribs.
Pain bloomed in dull waves, not sharp, but deep enough to make her want to curl inward.
’What... happened?’
Her thoughts came slowly, swimming through fog.
She tried to turn her head, anxiety tightening her chest.
The room was unfamiliar, far too quiet, far too clean. Soft lights. Beeping machines. The faint scent of antiseptic.
’Hospital...’
The realization struck her at once, sending her heart racing.
Her throat burned when she tried to swallow. Dry. Like she had screamed for hours.
Panic bubbled up, but then she saw him, Axel, her husband. He sat beside her bed, slumped awkwardly in the chair, his broad shoulders curved forward, his usually sharp posture gone.
His head was bowed, dark hair slightly disheveled, his face pale with exhaustion. He looked older somehow. Worn.
The sight of him warmed her chest despite the pain.
’He stayed,’ she thought weakly. ’I’m sorry... Hubby, I’m really sorry to make you worry.’
Her eyes feel stung.
She tried to call his name. "A... Axel..."
But nothing came out. Not even a whisper.
Her throat refused to cooperate, the sound trapped somewhere deep inside her chest.
She frowned slightly, panic flaring again. ’Why can’t I speak? Why does it hurt everywhere?’
Memories returned without warning... The road. The headlights. The truck. The scream of metal. The sickening sensation of weightlessness.
Then Axel’s face, frantic and furious, appeared when she lay helplessly on the ground. His hands. His voice. The cliff. The cold rush of fear.
After that...nothing.
The memory slammed into her chest, and tears welled up instantly. They slipped down the corners of her eyes, silent and unstoppable.
’Thank you, Lord... Thank you... You brought me back from that terrible experience. I... I almost died...’
Her breathing swallows, emotion crashing into her all at once. She was alive. She was in the hospital. Axel was here.
Then another thought struck her like a sharp nail.
’My baby.’

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