Chapter 19
Camila stood by the hospital bed, her gaze fixed on Emily. “Emily, it’s me. Camila. You hate me so much–you should recognize my voice, shouldn’t you?
Tve heard that some coma patients still have awareness. I wonder… can you hear me now? If you can, when are you finally going to wake up?”
She kept talking, her words spilling out one after another, but the figure lying motionless in the hospital bed remained completely unresponsive.
The sharp scent of disinfectant hung in the air, sterile and suffocating. The stark white walls and sheets only amplified the contrast between them and Emily’s frail, skeletal frame, making her look even more fragile–like she could disappear at any
moment.
Camila slowly sat down beside the bed, her eyes never leaving Emily’s pale, bloodless face.
“Do you know?” she murmured. “Everyone thinks I’m the one who hurt you. But I’m innocent. And no one knows that better than you
“You’ve been unconscious for five years…and I spent those five years rotting in prison for a crime Agnes committed.
“You have no idea what it was like in there. Her voice wavered. “They stabbed me with needles. Beat me with sticks. They) even took one of my kidneys… all because your brother wanted revenge for you. He made sure I was well taken care of
Sunlight streamed through the small gap in the curtains, scattering across the cold hospital floor. But even the warmth of daylight couldn’t drive away the suffocating chill that filled the room.
Camila took a slow, shaky breath, forcing back the lump in her throat.
“I still remember the first time I saw you, she said softly. “You had the brightest smile–like a princess straight out of a fairy tale. Back then, I envied you so much. You had a family that adored you, a life of privilege, friends who cared about you.
“And me? I returned to the Jackson family only to realize I was nothing more than an outsider. And now, I’m just a criminal. Someone for the world to spit on
She clenched her jaw. “But
“But it wasn’t me who hurt you
you. It was Agnes”
The weight of injustice pressed down on her chest, suffocating and unbearable. Tears burned in her eyes, slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them.
As she wiped her face with the back of her hand, she didn’t notice the faintest flicker of movement beneath Emily’s closed eyelids, a subtle twitch.
But Camila didn’t see it. Once she had composed herself, she stood
- up.
“Emily, wake up soon,” she whispered. “I’ll come back to see you again. She turned and stepped out of the room.
But the moment she did, she collided with a gaze as deep and cold as a frozen lake.
The man standing before her was tall, his black suit impeccably tailored, perfectly fitted to his broad shoulders and lean waist. His sharp, chiseled features looked almost unreal–sculpted, but edged with a coldness that made him seem
untouchable
Dark brows slanted sharply above a pair of piercing, abyss–like eyes. His straight nose, his thin lips pressed into an unyielding line, the hard set of his jaw–everything about him exuded power, control and danger.
The second their eyes met, Camila’s body reacted before her mind could catch up. She shook, uncontrollably, violently. Her legs went weak, her muscles locking up in fear.
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Chapter 19
Her heart pounded furiously against her ribs, so hard it felt like it might burst through her chest. Her breaths turned
The man took a step forward, deliberate, unhurried, suffocating Camila instinctively stepped back. He moved closer. She stepped back again.
She barely realized she was retreating until her back slammed into the cold, hard surface of the hospital room door. Bang. The sound rang out in the quiet hallway
His gaze never wavered, never softened. It held her in place, pinned her down like a predator staring at cornered prey. The air around her felt thick, heavy–like she was sinking in it.
Then, slowly, he took another step forward. And before she knew it, he had forced her right back into the hospital room.
The man’s towering frame loomed over her, casting a suffocating shadow. The air in the hospital room felt frozen, locked in a tense, breathless stillness.
The only sounds were the erratic rise and fall of Camila’s breathing, her chest heaving as panic clawed at her lungs.
She had been hacked into the hospital bed, trapped, nowhere left to run
“Mr–Mr. Commor…” Her voice wavered, barely more than a whisper.
William’s sharp eyes flickered with something unreadable. His deep, icy voice carried the weight of a command. “You’re afraud of me?‘
Camila dropped her gaze, too afraid to breathe, let alone speak.
Afraid? How could she not be? She had tasted the full extent of his cruelty in prison–humiliation, torture, despair so deep it made death seem like mercy,
He had stripped her of her dignity, left her battered, broken–ensuring she never died, only suffered.
She had fought back against the Jackson family, had stood her ground despite everything. But in front of him, there was no fight left in her.
Her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her shirt, gripping it so hard her knuckles turned white.
“I–I’ve already explained everything to Miss Walker,” she said, forcing the words past the knot of fear in her throat. “Can I…. leave now?
She didn’t dare look up, but she could feel the weight of his gaze–cold, detached, utterly indifferent.
William tilted his head slightly, looking down at her like an emperor surveying an insect crawling at his feet. “Explained? His lips curled into a slow, mocking smile. “Your father promised me you’d beg to my sister–until I was satisfied.” Camila’s blood ran cold. Her head snapped up in shock, only to meet his piercing, predatory gaze. Under its weight, her body recoiled instinctively, her head howing once more.
The past came rushing back, a relentless flood of memories–prison cells, unrelenting lists, the taste of blood, the agony of never–ending torment.
The days when she had been stripped of everything–her name, her dignity, her very existence.
She had thought she could endure anything. Hat standing before William, her mind and body had already surrendered to
fear.
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William took another step forward. His presence alone preced down on her like an avalanche beyond outforming
“What’s wrong” His voice was soft, almost gentle, yet laced with something far more danger “Unwilling Or do you think five years in prison was enough to pay for what you owe Emily?
Camila trembled like a leaf caught in a storm. She wanted to run. But her legs wouldn’t move. She wanted to explain
But what was the point? She had explained it five years ago. He hadn’t believed her then. He wouldn’t believe her new. If he had, he wouldn’t have personally ensured that her life in prison was a living hell
Her fear of him wasn’t just fear–it was instinct, carved into her very soul. Her knees buckled. She sink to the fleem
“I am guilty,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath. Her forehead pressed against the cold, hard tile. I confess my to Miss Connor. I beg for Mr. Connor’s forgiveness”
Bang! Her head struck the ground. A dull, heavy sound echoed through the room. Again, Bang! And again.
Each impact was harder than the last, her entire body thrown into the motion with desperate force. Dignity? She had thrown that away a long time ago—just to survive.
William stood still, watching. But there was no satisfaction in his expression. If anything, the sight of her groveling, begging bleeding only deepened the storm in his eyes.
This was what he had wanted. For five years, he had waited for this moment–Camila begging before him, humiliated, broken, for his mercy.
Yet now that it was happening, it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like victory. His jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. tension rippling through his entire frame.
Camila’s forehead split open. Blood trickled down, sliding across her pale cheek before dripping onto the pristine white floor. The crimson spread, seeping into the cold tile like ink bleeding across paper.
Yet she didn’t stop. She kept bowing, head meeting the ground with a brutal rhythm. Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed in the silence. “I was wrong. I have sinned. Please, Mr. Connor, let me go.
Each word came with another impact. Another wound. Another drop of blood.
William’s breathing grew unsteady, his jaw tightening further. A dark, uncontrollable rage churned beneath his calm
exterior
He didn’t notice, didn’t realize that behind him, on the hospital bed. Emily’s eyelids twitched. Her eyes darted beneat them, flickering with movement.
And then–a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye, trailing silently down her cheek before vanishing into the fabric of the pillow.
