Chapter 111: Chapter One Hundred and Eleven

Aiden

Hermione opens her eyes on the fourth day of her treatment.

I am at work when I receive the miraculous news. I rush to the hospital, elated, where the doctor congratulates me upon my arrival. The deformity caused by the reaction has dissipated; although her features haven't quite returned to their usual state, she looks infinitely better than she did the night the allergy struck.

"Hermie," I exhale in profound relief.

"Aiden," she breathes, sitting upright in bed.

I close the distance between us and envelop her in a firm embrace. My breathing is ragged as I whisper, "I’m so glad you’re safe."

"Me too," she says, returning the embrace with surprising strength.

I pull back to scan her face, tenderly brushing her lips with my thumb.

"Do I look hideous?" she asks.

A chuckle escapes me. "Can a goddess ever look hideous?"

Hermione rolls her eyes.

"Allergy or not, you are always stunning, Hermione Jade Mendes."

She presses her lips together, lowering her gaze. "Thank you, Aiden."

"Babe, you don’t have to thank me for stating the obvious."

She lets out a soft laugh, though her expression soon turns pensive. "I have to admit, I clearly underestimated the enemy."

"Did you recognize her?"

"I have an inkling. The height, the stature... it was familiar, but the face was different. It might have been prosthetics," she muses aloud, then snaps her fingers as realization dawns. "That’s it! Prosthetic makeup to conceal her identity. She clearly underestimated a surgeon's eye for detail."

"Who is it?" I frown, immediately on high alert.

"I’ve been mentally cycling through everyone I’ve ever offended. She’s the last person I expected to be this cross with me."

"Who?" I demand.

"It might not be her. It’s just a suspicion. Plenty of people share that height," she says with a shrug.

"Never doubt your instincts, Hermione. Tell me how to find her."

She provides the date they encountered each other at the hospital. Since patient files are strictly confidential, I realize I have to take the long route through the security department.

"Who are you?" the officer asks when I reach the restricted floor.

"Aiden Mendes, son-in-law to Ezra Watson Pierce."

Before coming here, I had requested permission from Ezra to investigate, and mercifully, she granted it. The officer waits for confirmation from the Director before letting me in, citing protocol. I nod absentmindedly, my focus entirely on unmasking the woman Hermione suspects.

I stand behind the technician operating the monitors, my arms folded over my chest. My gaze is intent on the large screens as we scan footage from the date Hermione provided, narrowing the search to the specific wing where the meeting occurred.

It doesn’t take long to find her. A knot forms in my stomach the moment she appears on screen. My arms drop to my sides, my hands curling into tight fists.

"Zoom in on the patient's face, please."

The man complies, and Annabelle’s face fills the screen.

"Crazy bitch!" I hiss, my breath hitching in fury.

"You know her?" the technician asks, glancing over his shoulder at me.

"I do," I reply, my voice dropping to a glacial chill.

________________

I thank the officers for their assistance after taking several photos of the screen and return to Hermione's ward.

"You've seen her?" Hermione inquires the moment I step inside. She is sitting on the edge of the bed, her fingers moving restlessly over the hospital covers.

I nod in confirmation. "When did you two meet? Was the hospital your first encounter, or did you offend her before that?"

I had my reasons for breaking up with Annabelle. She is volatile, and I’ve had a lingering sense that my own reckoning was coming. She was the one ex I regretted not ending things with over the phone; it seems she is still dangerously obsessed with me. I need to determine if she targeted Hermione to spite me or if her actions were sparked by a personal grievance against my wife. Annabelle is the type to hold a grudge over the most trivial slights, and once she fixes her sights on someone, she doesn't let go. I was never a one-woman man—until Hermione came along.

"No," Hermione explains. "She collided with my car shortly before I saw her here as a patient. She claimed she was rushing to see her dying father, so I let her go despite the damage. When we met again at the hospital after her second accident, I declined her offer to pay for the repairs and advised her to hire a chauffeur, given her track record. Perhaps she’s angry that I undermined her driving or rejected her invitation to a ‘thank you’ meal. But as I said, it might not be her; the circumstances don't quite align."

"It is her," I state firmly.

"You sound remarkably sure of that."

"Annabelle Wilson. I’m intimately familiar with her antics. This is exactly what she’s capable of. She is malicious to her core."

"You know her?"

"Yes. She’s my ex. We broke up over a year and a half ago—I can’t even remember the exact date. She holds grudges like a heartbeat." I shake my head. "I will handle her. You’ll be safe."

Hermione nods. "Okay."

By the time I leave the ward to meet Noah, Hermione's parents have arrived, visibly relieved to find her conscious. I’ve also updated my father on her recovery, and he sent his regards.

Later that evening, I brief Noah on my findings. "I need you to track this woman down. I’m certain she’s the culprit." I hand him a printout of Annabelle's profile. Noah scrutinizes the photo, nods once, and tucks it into his wallet.

"How is your wife, sir?" Noah asks.

"She’s improving. Thanks, Noah."

I turn to leave, but Noah stops me. "Something doesn't sit right with the waitress's account."

I frown. "What’s the issue?"

"I returned to the restaurant today to speak with the concierge. I’m not entirely convinced she was assaulted while delivering your order. Tell me, sir—did she look shaken or manhandled when she approached your table?"

My memory of the waitress is hazy; I hadn't paid enough attention to notice such details. I wish I had been more observant. "I can’t say for sure, but nothing seemed amiss. She was professional. What are you thinking? That she was a willing accomplice?"

"I believe so. When I inquired about her today, management informed me she resigned on short notice. I suspect she was bribed. I just need to confirm it before I have her arrested."

I nod in acknowledgement. "Keep me apprised of your findings. And be wary of Annabelle Wilson; she is exceptionally cunning. She must not evade your grasp."

"I will see to it that she is handed over to the police," he assures me.

"I’ll alert Jordan to expect her arrival."

"Understood, sir," Noah nods. We head to our respective vehicles and depart for our separate destinations.

I return to MD Entertainment, as I still have several matters to resolve before I can conclude my day. As I reach the lobby, I cross paths with Lachlan, who appears to be clocking out. Dawn is trailing faithfully behind him as I enter the building.

A scoff escapes me before I can suppress it. Seeing the two of them together is almost comical; it’s the girl I pity most. She truly believes she can seductively navigate her way to the top. News flash: my father is the one calling the shots, not Lachlan—and he has no patience for social climbers.

"What are you grinning at?" Lachlan snarls.

"Was I grinning?" I ask, feigning astonishment.

"You don't fool me, Aiden. I know the games you're playing." He steps into my personal space, his voice dropping to a hiss. "You can climb as high as you like, but it won't hide your sullied roots. I’m going to relish watching you plummet from the height you’ve gained through such crooked means."

"Crooked means?" I shift my gaze to Dawn. "If either of us has a crooked disposition, we both know who it is. You know Dad wonders who you actually intend to commit to, Lachlan. If you want to return to his good graces, you might try not being a two-timing bastard. Don't you think?"

Lachlan fumes, his face reddening. "You’ll regret this, Aiden. You’ll regret ever competing against me."

"I’m not competing with you, Lachlan," I say, spreading my arms in a dismissive gesture. "The results speak for themselves."

Lachlan draws himself up, a slow, predatory smirk curving his lips. "Enjoy the spotlight while it lasts, Aiden. You’re going down very soon."

His eyes flash with malice before he storms off, Dawn hurrying to keep pace.

I watch him leave, my eyes narrowing in suspicion and my jaw tightening. I don't take Lachlan's threats lightly; I will ensure I am always one step ahead of his schemes, no matter the cost.

Author's Note

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