Chapter 2 Mr. Hudson, Why Don't We Make A Deal

Inside a private hospital suite, Dayna remained unconscious, trapped in a dreamless slumber as monitors quietly tracked her condition.

Seated silently next to her was a man in a wheelchair, dressed in a perfectly cut black suit that spoke of wealth and precision.

He was twenty-seven, with a face so flawlessly carved, it almost felt unreal-like a statue touched by the hands of gods. Everything about him exuded power, the kind that didn't ask for attention but commanded it effortlessly.

"Mr. Hudson... your health," the elderly doctor began, pausing before his voice turned grim. "The paralysis is progressing. If we can't stop it, permanent immobility is certain. At this stage, your only chance may lie with... the Wraith Physician."

That man was Kristopher Hudson-CEO of Hudson Group and the reigning figure of the powerful Hudson family.

The Hudson lineage was long-established and deeply influential, cloaked in both prestige and mystery.

As for Kristopher, in the eyes of the city's elite, he wasn't just powerful-he was unreachable.

At the mere age of six, he cracked the cyber defenses of a global crime ring, retrieving billions in stolen funds in under ten minutes and bringing the entire syndicate to its knees.

By ten, he held multiple national patents in cutting-edge energy technology, giving Hudson Group a commanding grip on the sector.

And at fifteen, he was already working alongside his father to take the family empire global, reviving a waning legacy and turning it into a force that demanded the world's attention.

But now, the same man who once seemed unstoppable was confined to a wheelchair, left paralyzed from the waist down after a devastating accident three years earlier.

However, mobility wasn't the only concern anymore.

Kristopher looked up, his voice calm, eyes cold as frost. "With my current condition... is fathering a child still an option?"

It wasn't pride or ego behind the question. His grandmother, frail and nearing her end, had only one wish left-to see a great-grandchild before leaving this world.

The doctor was stunned. "Excuse me?"

...

Dayna couldn't remember how long she had been lying on that bridge. She had no clue who had found her or when help had arrived.

Her memory was a haze of scattered fragments-fleeting images slipping through her grasp like fog.

One memory stood out-a pair of eyes.

They were cold, unreadable... unfamiliar yet hauntingly recognizable.

And then suddenly, they morphed into Declan's face-burning with hatred.

"Why won't you die already, Dayna?" She heard Declan scream. "Once you're out of the way, Maddie and I can be happy. You're worthless! Just die!"

No!

If she gave up now, it would be the victory they were waiting for.

All her mother's life work-years of sacrifice-would be handed to Declan on a silver platter.

She wouldn't allow it.

Not in this lifetime.

Dayna jolted awake with a sharp inhale. The first thing she saw was a bright, sterile ceiling-one she knew too well.

The sharp stench of antiseptic hit her like a punch. Her stomach twisted, and she curled forward, dry heaving with no strength to fight it.

But this time felt different.

For once, she was thankful-thankful that she was still breathing.

"You're awake?"

A calm, deep voice drifted to her, slow and unhurried.

She froze instantly, her whole body going stiff as sweat dampened her back.

His features were striking-so sharply defined they bordered on cruelly handsome. But it wasn't his face that truly unsettled her. It was his eyes. Cold and still, like the surface of a deep, motionless lake. There was no warmth in them, only a quiet, unspoken threat that pressed against her chest.

"Kristopher Hudson?" she blurted in shock.

Why on earth was he here?

Was he... back? Really?

"Afraid now?"

Kristopher's stare was intense, cutting through her like a blade. Yet when he spoke, his voice was calm and deliberate. "You had no fear when you plotted against me for the Foster Group. Interesting how that bravery seems to vanish now."

The air around him was stifling. Dayna felt as though she'd plunged into icy waters-paralyzed, breathless, freezing.

Three years ago, Hudson Group and Foster Group had clashed in a ruthless corporate battle.

Back then, Dayna had already sealed a deal with Kristopher, promising him a critical patent project.

He'd poured in millions, countless hours, and a full marketing campaign in anticipation.

But in the final hour, she gave it all to Declan.

Because she'd let her heart lead. Because Declan had begged, and she couldn't bring herself to say no.

In a single move, everything Kristopher had invested went up in smoke.

She had offered apology after apology, bracing herself for the inevitable fallout. But the retaliation never came. Kristopher simply vanished. She told herself he must've been too busy, caught up in other priorities.

But now, three years later... seeing him right in front of her again... Was this what he'd been waiting for all along? Revenge?

No, that couldn't be it.

If that were his goal, she wouldn't be alive to wonder about it.

Taking a slow breath, Dayna steadied herself. "You were the one who saved me."

Kristopher gave a cold laugh, tapping his temple. "You're not entirely useless. If I hadn't passed by and intervened, you'd be dead by now."

Indeed.

She had come that close to dying.

Dayna bit down on her lip, rage flickering in her eyes.

Back then, she had convinced herself that giving her mother's legacy to Declan was a gesture of love-a sign of unwavering trust. But now, that very trust felt like poison in her gut. It turned her stomach to think of how easily she'd foolishly handed over everything.

She was done being the fool.

She had made up her mind. If she was going to reclaim her life, she had to take back every single thing that had been stolen from her as well.

A soft cough pulled her back from her thoughts.

It was Kristopher.

She turned toward the sound, and only then did it hit her. He wasn't standing. He was sitting in a wheelchair.

She looked at him, shocked. "Your legs..."

And then it clicked. "That's why you disappeared... three years ago..."

His gaze narrowed. "So? You going to laugh at me now?"

She quickly shook her head. "No. I wouldn't."

But her voice faded as she looked at him-still commanding, still unreadable, still every bit a force even in a wheelchair.

In all of Arkmery, there was only one man left who could rival Foster Group, and he was sitting right here.

Her thoughts raced, analyzing every possible angle.

Then she slowly balled her fists, lifted her chin, and said with a quiet calm, "Mr. Hudson, why don't we make a deal?"