Chapter 74

Adrian' POV

The words on my screen blurred as notifications flooded in. Through the glass wall of the conference room, I watched the chaos unfold as the news of Apex's collapse spread like wildfire.

"Apex Financial Collapse."

My grip tightened until my knuckles went white. Five years ago, over dinner at the Fairmont, I'd casually told Sophie, "Henry Richardson has a gift for finance. Apex is a solid investment opportunity."

She'd smiled, that bright, trusting smile that used to light up runways across Europe. "If you think it's good, I'm in."

Now that trust was shattering along with Apex's fa?ade. The strategy meeting continued around me, voices fading into white noise as headlines screamed across my screen. Board members were still discussing quarterly projections, oblivious to the storm about to hit.

My phone vibrated - William's name flashing. "Excuse me," I muttered, stepping out. The moment I hit answer, his voice cut through, tight with urgency.

"Sophie overdosed. She's at UCSF Medical Center."

The world tilted. "When?"

"Her assistant just found her. Adrian..." William hesitated. "It's bad."

"Clear my schedule," I ordered, already moving. "Everything."

Charles appeared, tablet in hand. "Sir, the board-"

"Cancel it all."

The drive to UCSF was a blur of memories. Sophie on the runway, her movements liquid grace. The day of the accident - alarms blaring, smoke filling the lab, her pushing that young intern clear as the malfunctioning robotic arm swung wild. The months of physical therapy that followed, watching her fight to regain mobility while her modeling contracts slipped away.

Emma, Sophie's assistant, met me at the emergency entrance. Her mascara was smeared, hands shaking as she clutched her phone. "Mr. Salvatore..." Her voice cracked. "She's been waiting for your call. Ever since the Apex news broke."

"I didn't know she'd invested so much." The words felt hollow.

"It was your last recommendation to her." Emma's eyes held accusation. "She trusted you completely."

The guilt hit like a physical blow. I'd given that advice so casually, wanting to prove I still had valuable insights to offer even as our relationship crumbled. Now that casual suggestion might have destroyed her.

William found me in the eerily quiet VIP wing. "Media's already running with it," he said quietly. "'Tech CEO's Ex-Fianc  e Hospitalized After Financial Scandal.' They're linking it to Next Robotics."

I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly remembering Anna. In the chaos, I hadn't even thought to explain... "Get PR to draft a statement immediately. Make it clear that Sophie and I are just friends now, that I'm here out of concern for a former colleague who's going through a difficult time."

"Already on it," William nodded. "But Adrian... the photos of you rushing here, they're already trending. #SophieAndAdrian is climbing fast."

"I have to wait until she wakes up."

"Adrian," William's voice softened. "The runway was her life. That accident... the scars weren't just physical. They took away her dream. But this? This isn't your fault."

I laughed, bitter and sharp. "Isn't it? I insisted on testing that prototype. I overrode safety protocols because I was so sure it would work. And now Apex..."

"You couldn't have known about Richardson's fraud-"

"But I should have checked before giving her that advice." My hands clenched. "I owe her that much at least."

Sophie looked fragile against the white sheets, her usual perfect composure stripped away. When her eyes fluttered open, they found mine immediately.

"Adrian." Her voice was barely a whisper. "You came."

"Of course I came." I moved closer, guilt churning in my gut. "Sophie, I'm so sorry. About Apex, about everything-"

"You always did blame yourself too much." Her fingers brushed mine weakly. "I just... I needed you here."

Through the partially open door, I caught fragments of Emma's urgent phone conversation: "Yes, he's here now. Just like we... The press are already..."

Something nagged at me. The timing, the publicity, Emma's whispered calls... A seed of doubt took root. The Sophie I knew had always been brilliant at managing perceptions. How much of this was real pain, and how much was careful orchestration?

But looking at her vulnerable form, guilt overwhelmed my suspicions. Even if this was calculated... hadn't I given her every reason to resort to such measures? The accident had stolen her dream of ruling the runway. My careless investment advice had threatened what she'd rebuilt. I owed her this much at least.

"Rest," I told her softly. "I'll be here."

Cameras flashed outside  vultures circling our "tragic reunion." Hours ticked by  doctors updated, PR called, William hovered. Sophie slept, vitals steady. I stepped into the hall, finally free, and my chest tightened. Anna.

I needed her  her voice, her sharp take, something to cut through this haze. That morning  her eyes on me as I snapped, her cool "week's leave" ringing in my head  burned. Had I pushed her too far? I dialed, pacing.

Voicemail. "Anna, it's me. Call me back." I tried again  nothing. A text: "Need to talk. You okay?" Unread.

She'd seen me break  lose it over Sophie, rush out. What did she think? That I'd chosen Sophie  again? These days  her heat, her fight  flashed hot. I wasn't done with her. Not even close.

"The board needs an Apex update," William said, low, behind me.

"Tell them I'm on it," I muttered, eyes on my phone  still blank.

"And Anna?"

Her name hit  sharp, heavy. That night  her gasp, her nails  felt alive. This? Duty, guilt, a chain I couldn't snap.

"She's busy," I said, flat, dodging. But it gnawed  I'd left her in that office, no word, just headlines screaming Sophie. She deserved more than silence, more than me tangled in this mess.

I sank into a chair by Sophie's bed, watching her sleep  fragile, a ghost of my past. Anna's silence cut deeper. Some scars never faded  Sophie's accident, Apex, my fault. But the worst? The ones I carved now, chasing ghosts while Anna slipped away.

I redialed  voicemail again. "Anna  " My voice cracked, low. "Just tell me you're there."

Nothing.