Chapter 4

More than once, the pill had half dissolved in my mouth, that nauseating bitterness spreading down my throat, and still I had to force out a stiff smile and pretend I'd swallowed it whole.

Because I wasn't taking the medicine, my body was recovering at an unbelievable speed.

The whole right side of my body was under my control now, and my left leg could bend a little.

But I didn't dare show a hint of it. In front of them I played worse than before, more limp, more vacant, even letting my eyes go cloudy and unfocused.

Every evening after work, Nora appeared in my bedroom right on schedule.

She no longer bothered with the pretense she'd kept up that first day. Now she and Teresa discussed, right in front of me and without the slightest restraint, exactly how they would carve up my company piece by piece.

"Sis, that old stubborn one in R&D was asking about Julian's condition again today. Says there's a twenty-million research fund that needs his signature."

Nora sat on the edge of my bed, filing her nails, saying it as if it were nothing.

"Tell him the chairman's condition has worsened and he's in a coma. As for the funds, I'll approve them in the meantime, as the chairman's wife."

Teresa sat on the sofa with a glass of red wine in her hand, the swaying red glow playing across her face, making her look especially seductive.

"You've got nerve. Aren't you worried those old foxes on the board will get suspicious?"

Nora laughed softly.

"So what if they do? Julian's 'gravely ill.' As his lawful wife, my managing the company is perfectly legitimate.

Once next month's shareholders' meeting opens, and with those minority-share transfer papers you're holding, whether this company ends up a Henson company or a Pruitt one won't be up to them anymore."

Teresa took a sip of wine, her gaze sweeping over me, cold.

I lay on the bed while a storm tore through me.

They'd even planned out next month's shareholders' meeting.

That bitch. How dare she.

Half my life I'd spent building this empire, and now it was going to be stolen from me by these two women, together, in this bedroom the daylight never reached?

Just as I was about to lose the fight against my rage, about to lunge up and close my hand around Teresa's throat, the doorbell rang.

"Ding-dong——"

In this dead-silent house, the sound was like something from heaven.

"Who's coming at this hour?"

Teresa frowned, set down her glass, and went out.

Nora put away the nail clippers too, stood, smoothed her skirt, and slipped back into the good little intern.

A moment later, a rough male voice came from outside.

"Teresa, how's Julian been these last few days? I just got back from a trip and came straight here to see him before I even went home!"

It was Harold Armstrong. My brother, the one I'd trust with my life. Deputy captain of the city police criminal investigation unit.

My heart slammed into a wild rhythm, all the blood in me rushing to my head.

My savior was here.

If Harold just walked into this room, if I could give him one sign, then with all his years of investigation work he'd catch what was wrong. There was no way he wouldn't.

"Harold, you've come at a bad time."

Teresa's voice sounded from beyond the door, carrying just the right amount of grief and exhaustion.

"Julian... just took his medicine and fell asleep.

The doctor says his brain and nerves are extremely fragile right now. He can't handle light, can't handle loud voices, they're afraid of anything that might set him off."

"Is that so..."

Harold's voice sounded hesitant.

"Then I'll... I'll just look at him from the doorway. I won't go in and disturb him.

Teresa, Julian's spent his whole life being strong and proud. Getting hit with this all of a sudden, you'll have to bear with him."

"Harold, don't say that. I'm his wife. Taking care of him is my duty."

The footsteps drew closer, and the bedroom door was eased open a crack.

Light spilled in from the living room. Through half-shut eyes I saw, in that sliver of open door, Harold's familiar, stubbled face.

He stood outside, looking in with worried eyes.

This was my only chance.

I drew in a breath and gathered every scrap of strength I'd been saving for three days into my right hand.

I would lift my hand, I would knock over the lamp on the nightstand, I would make a noise and get his attention.

But the instant my fingers curled, just as I was about to push, an ice-cold little hand clamped down over the back of my hand and pinned it to the mattress under the blanket.

It was Nora.

Somehow she'd moved without a sound to the shadow at the head of the bed.

Her back was to Harold in the doorway, and on her face was the sweetest, most vicious smile, her eyes locked on mine. In a voice so low it was barely breath, one only I could hear, she said:

"Julian. Behave."

Outside, Harold looked at me lying motionless under the blanket and let out a long sigh.

"Seeing Julian like this, it really tears me up.

Teresa, Nora's here too? You two have it hard. Julian's lucky to have you both beside him."

"Don't worry, Captain Armstrong. We'll take good care of the chairman."

Nora turned her head, and her voice broke into something near tears in an instant. The speed of that change ran a chill down my spine.

"All right, I won't intrude then. I'll come see him again in a few days. Teresa, whatever you need, call me anytime."

The door closed again. Harold's footsteps grew fainter, until the front door shut with a bang.

With that sound, whatever light was left in my eyes went out for good.

The last thread of hope, strangled in the cradle by these two women, together.

I understood then that counting on rescue from the outside was hopeless.

In this cage, sealed tight as an iron drum, the only way out was to save myself.

Night fell, and the whole city sank into sleep, but the air in my sickroom hung so thick it might have dripped water.

Tonight, for once, Teresa and Nora didn't turn in early. Instead they opened a bottle of very good vintage Romanée-Conti in the living room.

The faint clink of glasses and soft laughter drifted through the gap in the door, and every sound was like a saw dragging back and forth across my nerves.

Five days straight now, I hadn't swallowed a single one of their pills.

Though I still had to endure the hunger and the torment of that doctored chicken soup every day, my body had recovered most of the way, miraculously.

My right side could bear my weight now, and though my left leg still dragged a little, crawling along the floor was no problem at all.

I knew tonight was my last chance.

Tomorrow was the end of the month Teresa had mentioned. The day after was the shareholders' meeting.

If I couldn't get hold of a phone tonight and get out the four pills hidden in the gap of the bed, along with the recorded proof of what they'd said, then I was truly finished.

I kept my eyes shut tight, straining to hear what was happening outside.

"Sis, are you sure Harold didn't pick up on anything today?"

Nora's voice carried a trace of wine, a little too excited.