Chapter 4 Awakening and Mockery

Cole instinctively lunged forward.

He caught Alya before her body hit the hard linoleum floor. His thick arms wrapped tightly around her waist and shoulders.

She was surprisingly light. Her fragile frame felt like a broken bird against his solid chest.

"Get your hands off her!" Haylee shouted, stepping forward to push him away.

Cole ignored her completely. He tightened his grip on Alya, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

He turned his head and barked an order at Dr. Evans, his voice echoing with absolute authority. "Prep a VIP suite. Immediately."

Dr. Evans nodded frantically, gesturing for a nurse to lead the way.

Cole strode down the hallway, carrying his unconscious wife. His jaw was clenched so tight the muscle ticked visibly. An unfamiliar, tight knot of anxiety twisted in the center of his chest, making it hard to draw a full breath.

He didn't look back at Angelle.

Inside the expansive VIP suite, Cole gently placed Alya onto the center of the pristine white bed.

He stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. As two nurses rushed in, they quickly hooked Alya up to a heart monitor and inserted an IV drip into the back of her pale hand.

"She's suffering from extreme exhaustion and emotional shock," the nurse whispered, taping the needle down.

Cole dismissed the medical staff with a sharp, impatient wave of his hand.

The nurses scurried out, pulling the heavy door shut behind them.

Cole pulled a leather armchair to the bedside. He sat down heavily, resting his elbows on his knees, staring at her face.

Ten minutes passed in heavy silence.

Alya's eyelashes fluttered. She slowly opened her eyes. The harsh, bright ceiling lights made her wince, causing a sharp pain to spike behind her eyes.

She turned her head slightly. Her gaze landed on Cole.

"My grandfather..." Alya breathed out, panic lacing her weak voice.

"His vitals stabilized an hour ago," Cole stated flatly, checking his phone. "Dr. Evans assured me he is resting quietly. Your sister is sitting with him."

He was sitting in the chair, casually unbuttoning his suit jacket. He looked entirely unbothered, as if they were sitting in a hotel lobby waiting for a table.

Looking at his relaxed posture, Alya's mind flashed back to three years ago.

She remembered standing in a freezing rainstorm outside his corporate headquarters begged him to save Hayes Realty from bankruptcy.

She remembered the cold, transactional way he had handed her the marriage contract across his mahogany desk. He had bought her life, her freedom, for a capital injection.

The memory faded, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Alya looked down at her right arm. A large, ugly purple bruise was already forming on her elbow from where she had hit the floor.

The physical pain grounded her, it anchored her in the miserable reality of her choice.

Cole broke the silence. His tone dripped with arrogant condescension.

"The fainting spell was a dramatic touch, Alya," Cole said, leaning back in the chair. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Alya didn't argue.

She calmly pulled her good hand away from the edge of the bed, tucking it safely beneath the thin hospital blanket, deliberately creating a physical barrier between them. She didn't rip out her IV. She didn't scream or throw a tantrum. She simply stared at the blank wall opposite the bed, her expression vacant and entirely detached.

Cole frowned, the heavy leather chair creaking as he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing at her unnatural stillness. He reached out, his large hand hovering over her wrist, attempting to offer a semblance of comfort.

"Alya," Cole began, his voice carrying a rare, albeit brief, note of uncertainty.

Alya stared blankly at the wall, ignoring his hovering hand entirely. Her voice was hoarse, but completely steady.

"I don't need you here," Alya stated, her eyes never wavering from the blank plaster. "You can leave."

Cole scoffed. He dropped his hand, leaning his weight back into the chair.

"Leave?" Cole mocked, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "And where exactly would you go? How exactly will Hayes Realty survive without my funding? You think your sister can keep it afloat without my name backing her?"

Alya flinched internally at the mention of her family's company. It was the chain he used to keep her tied to him. But her facial expression remained completely frozen.

Cole leaned in close. His hot breath brushed against her ear, smelling faintly of mint and coffee.

"You are nothing but a beautiful parasite attached to my empire," Cole whispered, his words designed to inflict maximum psychological damage. "You don't leave until I say you leave."

Alya turned her face away. She stared at the blank wall, refusing to let him see the fresh, hot tears welling in the corners of her eyes at his cruel assessment.

Cole misinterpreted her silence, he thought he had won. He thought she was submitting.

His thumb moved from the gauze, slowly tracing her jawline in a sickening mockery of affection.

Alya swats his hand away with sudden, explosive force.

She sat up abruptly. Her head spun dizzily from the sudden movement, but she planted her hands on the mattress to steady herself.

"I won't be your obedient little prop anymore," Alya told him, her voice ringing with a newfound, quiet finality.

Cole's eyes darkened into a stormy, dangerous gray.

He grabbed both of her shoulders, his large hands easily spanning her collarbones. He pushed her backward, forcing her down against the pillows.

"You don't get to dictate the terms of our arrangement," Cole snarled, his face inches from hers. "Did you forget the prenup you signed? You walk away with nothing if you step out of line."

Alya let out a dry, humorless laugh. The sound was hollow and broken.

"You can keep every single cent, Cole," she told him, her eyes burning into his. "I just want out."

Cole was momentarily stunned, his grip on her shoulders loosened slightly. The concept of someone willingly walking away from his billions was entirely alien to his worldview.

Before he could process her words, a tentative knock sounded on the heavy suite door.

Linden poked his head in, holding Cole's buzzing phone. "Sir. It's the board. They need you on the conference call."

Cole released Alya instantly. He snatched the phone from Linden's hand. His demeanor switched back to the cold, calculating CEO in a fraction of a second.

He turned back to Alya, adjusting his expensive cuffs, smoothing the wrinkles from his sleeves.

"Stop throwing this jealous tantrum, Alya," Cole commanded, his voice returning to its usual arrogant drawl. "Before I lose my patience."