Chapter 25: Car Accident

The first thing Allan Gomez heard was the irregular beep… beep… echoing from the heart monitor beside his bed. His eyes fluttered open, and the ceiling above him swayed like a fog. The sterile smell of disinfectant filled his lungs, cold and sharp. A dull throb pulsed through his skull, and when he tried to move, pain stabbed his ribs like knives.

He realized quickly—he was in a hospital.

His throat was dry as sand. He tried to swallow, but it hurt. Memories trickled back in fragments: the rain on the windshield, the headlights blinding him, the flash of concrete, the screech of metal. And then—darkness.

Now here he was. Alive, but barely.

The door opened with a slow creak, and two figures slipped inside. Sam and Joel, his most loyal employees, his shadows at work. Both men looked pale as though they had been standing outside his room too long, debating whether to come in.

“Boss,” Sam said carefully, stepping closer. “You scared the hell out of us.”

Joel frowned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Allan’s battered body. “What happened? They said car accident, but… you don’t crash like that for nothing.”

Allan closed his eyes for a second, forcing his breath to steady. He knew what they were fishing for. They wanted answers. But he couldn’t give them the truth—not about her. Not about Adelia Murray.

The name alone twisted inside his chest like barbed wire.

He shifted slightly, ignoring the pain, and forced a small smirk. “It was raining. Roads slick. I was driving too fast, I guess. Don’t read into it.”

Joel raised a brow, unconvinced. “That’s not you. You don’t just… lose control like that.”

Sam exchanged a quick glance with Joel before leaning closer. His voice dropped low, almost conspiratorial. “Boss, we’ve been with you long enough. We know when something’s off. So tell us—what really happened?”

Allan’s fingers tightened against the blanket. His nails bit into the fabric as sweat slicked his palms. They can’t know. They’ll never know.

Adelia’s face flashed in his mind—young, beautiful, cruel in the way only youth could be. She had laughed at him once, laughed while tangled in another man’s arms, as if Allan meant nothing. His chest burned at the memory. He had wanted to kill her that night. Wanted to rip that man apart with his bare hands.

And yet, he loved her. He hated her. He needed her.

But Sam and Joel could never learn about Adelia Murray. That name was poison in his mouth.

He forced a chuckle, though it came out hollow. “Relax. You two think too much. I had a few drinks before driving. Should’ve known better.”

Joel’s eyes darkened. “You don’t drink while driving, Boss. Ever.”

Allan looked away, pretending to be weary, as though the conversation drained him. “Maybe I’m slipping. Maybe I’m just tired. But that’s all there is to it.”

The silence stretched. The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry insects. Sam and Joel did not believe him—he could see it in their eyes. But they wouldn’t press further, not yet.

Joel exhaled through his nose. “Fine. But you should know… the car didn’t look right. Like something forced it off the road.”

Allan’s heartbeat quickened. He tried to mask his reaction, but his body betrayed him. His hands trembled slightly under the blanket.

Sam leaned in, lowering his voice. “Did someone try to kill you?”

Allan forced a dry laugh. “Kill me? Please. I have more enemies than friends, sure, but I’m still standing. If someone wanted me dead, I’d be dead.”

But the truth crawled beneath his skin like worms. Because in the shadows of his mind, he wondered the same thing. Had the car accident been an accident at all? Or had Adelia’s laughter, Adelia’s betrayal, cursed him?

His lips pressed tight. He couldn’t let them see.

Joel crossed his arms, unconvinced, his stare hard and cutting. “We’ll find out the truth, Boss. One way or another.”

The tension thickened in the room. Allan’s mouth was dry again. The beeping of the heart monitor accelerated, betraying his nerves.

He tried to compose himself. “You two worry too much. Go home. Get some rest.”

But neither Sam nor Joel moved. They stood like sentinels, eyes locked on him, as if waiting for his mask to slip.

Then, suddenly, Allan froze.

From the corner of the room, near the drawn curtain, he swore he saw movement. A shadow—too quick, too human. His heart seized. The shadow lingered, as though watching him.

“Boss?” Sam asked, noticing his wide eyes. “What is it?”

Allan blinked, and the shadow was gone. The curtain was still. The corner was empty.

He forced his jaw tight. “Nothing. Just the pain meds messing with me.”

But inside, he knew it wasn’t the medication. He knew someone had been standing there, watching, waiting.

Sam and Joel exchanged uneasy looks, their suspicion deepening. But they didn’t push. Instead, Joel muttered, “We’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t try to run off.”

As they left, Allan’s eyes remained locked on that corner of the room. His body stiffened, every nerve screaming.

Because just before the door closed, he swore he heard it—a whisper.

Low. Female. Familiar.

“Allan…”

His breath hitched. His skin crawled. His pulse thundered in his ears.

Adelia’s voice.

He was certain of it.

And in that moment, Allan knew—his lies could only protect him for so long. Because the dead, or the living, always found a way back.

The monitor beeped louder, echoing through the sterile air. The whisper seemed to linger, pressing against his skull. Allan tried to close his eyes, but he knew… something in that room wanted him to keep them open.

And it was not going to leave.