Chapter 1 1

The dull ache where the IV needle pierced the skin on the back of her hand forced Audra Mcgowan back to reality.

She gasped, her lungs struggling to pull in the sterile, air-conditioned oxygen of the hospital room.

She tried to open her eyes, but they met the unyielding pressure of a hard protective shield layered over thick medical gauze.

The physical barrier sent a sudden, violent wave of claustrophobia crashing into her chest.

She was completely blind.

Audra lifted her right hand to claw at the bandages, but the movement yanked the plastic tubing taped to her skin.

Another jolt of pain shot up her arm. She dropped her hand back onto the stiff mattress, her breathing erratic.

The heavy door of the private room pushed open. The squeak of rubber-soled shoes against the linoleum floor echoed loudly in the dead silence.

"Mrs. Hartman, you are awake," a female voice said. The nurse's tone was strictly professional. "The retina repair surgery was a complete success. Are you experiencing any severe nausea?"

"No," Audra whispered. Her throat felt like it was coated in dry sand.

"Good. Would you like me to contact your family? Or your husband?"

"No." Audra's response was immediate. Her fingers curled into tight fists against the bedsheets. "Please, don't call anyone."

"Understood. Press the call button if you need anything."

The nurse left. The door clicked shut.

The silence returned, heavier this time. Audra lay in the absolute dark, the sheer weight of her isolation pressing down on her collarbones.

Suddenly, a harsh, buzzing vibration erupted from the nightstand.

Audra jumped. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She reached her hand out blindly toward the sound. Her fingertips brushed against hard plastic, and then she heard the splash.

Cold water spilled across the wooden table and dripped onto her bare wrist.

She ignored the wetness, her hand frantically feeling around until her fingers closed around the cold metal of her smartphone.

She couldn't see the screen. She swiped her thumb across the glass three times before the vibration finally stopped.

"Audra."

The voice on the other end didn't waste a single second. It was Herminia, her mother. The tone was sharp enough to cut glass.

"Do you have any idea how stupid you made us look today?" Herminia demanded.

Audra squeezed her eyes shut beneath the gauze. "Mom, I just got out of surgery. I can't see anything right now."

"Stop making excuses," Herminia snapped, cutting her off completely. "You missed the foundation brunch. The Wall Street investors are already questioning the internal stability of Homestead Markets. You being sick right now is a pathetic display of irresponsibility."

The words felt like a bucket of ice water poured directly over Audra's head.

Her own mother didn't ask how the surgery went. She didn't ask if she was in pain.

"I had a torn retina," Audra said, her voice trembling. She hated how weak she sounded.

"I don't care," Herminia fired back. "You need to end this pointless vacation immediately."

Audra's stomach dropped.

"You need to go to your husband," Herminia ordered. Her voice dropped into a low, suffocating register. "You need to get pregnant, Audra. A Hartman heir is the only thing that will secure our trust fund. You need to sleep with Jakobe tonight."

A violent spasm ripped through Audra's stomach.

The sheer physical disgust made her want to throw up.

She thought of the hundred-page prenuptial agreement sitting in her safe. The bold black ink. The specific clause that strictly prohibited any emotional entanglement.

Jakobe Hartman was a human algorithm. He looked at their marriage as a corporate merger.

"I am not doing that," Audra said. She forced her voice to stay cold and level. "That wasn't part of the deal."

Herminia let out a cruel laugh. "If you don't do exactly as I say, I will personally see to it that you are stripped of your board seat at Homestead Markets."

Audra stopped breathing.

Her grandfather's company. The only reason she was still fighting. The only thing keeping her alive.

Before Audra could say another word, the line went dead.

The dial tone hummed loudly against her ear.

Audra's arm went entirely limp. The phone slipped from her fingers and landed on the carpet with a dull thud.

She bit down on her lower lip. She bit down so hard she tasted the metallic tang of her own blood.

She could not let them win. She could not let the board members know she was sitting in a clinic, blind and helpless.

She reached out and fumbled for the plastic call button clipped to her pillow. She pressed it hard.

"Yes, Mrs. Hartman?" the speaker crackled.

"I need you to upgrade my security," Audra said, her voice shaking but resolute. "No visitors. No phone calls. Nobody comes in here."

"Right away, ma'am."

The intercom clicked off.

Audra pulled her knees up to her chest in the dark. She wrapped her arms around her legs, and finally, a single, hot tear soaked into the thick white gauze.