Chapter 129
Grace's POV
Deep into the night, I finally convinced Eleanor to return to the hotel. It took considerable effort to persuade her—she'd wanted to stay and keep vigil with me, but I could see the exhaustion weighing on her.
When I returned to Alex's room, I found Daisy in the corner, speaking in hushed, angry tones into her phone. Her voice was thick with emotion, and I caught fragments of her conversation.
"He's your son," she said sharply before hanging up. The pain in her voice was unmistakable.
I waited a moment before entering, giving her time to compose herself. When I did step inside, Daisy had already wiped her eyes and turned to me with forced brightness.
"Make sure you watch him carefully tonight," she said softly, squeezing my hand. "Call if there's any change at all."
"Thank you, Mom," I whispered to the empty air, knowing somehow that Daisy understood I was thanking her for treating Alex like her own son, for loving him when his biological father seemed more concerned with business implications than his son's life.
Daisy had shared more during our brief conversation about Leon's reaction to the news. While he was concerned about Alex's condition, his first questions had been about whether Alex would still be capable of running Morgan International after his recovery.
"No matter what happens to you, no matter how you change," I said to Alex's still form, "I'll stay by your side. Always."
Daisy had tried to be gentle about it, but I'd seen the worry in her eyes. "You're still young," she'd started to say. "If Alex doesn't wake up... you could..."
I'd cut her off before she could finish. "Mom, Alex is going to wake up. I believe that completely."
After she left, I approached Alex's bedside and took his hand in mine. His fingers were still cold, so different from the warm, strong hands that had held me just days ago.
Moonlight streamed across his face, softening the harsh lines of his injuries and making him look almost peaceful. For a moment, I could pretend he was just sleeping deeply, that he'd wake up any second and smile at me.
"Alex, you have to hold on," I whispered. "My emotional strength isn't as solid as you think it is."
I stood and walked to the window, letting the moonlight wash over my face. "If you don't wake up, I'll be heartbroken for a very long time. Alex, if even you can't stay with me through this life, then I really will be completely alone."
The words came out more vulnerable than I'd intended, like a frightened child afraid of abandonment rather than the strong woman I was trying to be.
Please, God, I prayed silently. Don't take him from me. Not now.
My quiet murmur seemed to disturb something in the room. In the pale moonlight, I could have sworn I saw Alex's fingers twitch—just barely, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make my heart skip.
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Sophia's POV
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in Zenoria, I sat in a sterile government waiting room, surrounded by my detained team members. Three days of questioning about alleged business crimes had left me exhausted, but more than that, I was terrified of being cut off from my father.
I knew this was a carefully orchestrated trap. The detention, the accusations, the restriction on leaving the country—someone had planned this meticulously. What scared me most wasn't the possibility of being stuck here indefinitely; I could handle hardship. What truly terrified me was that my father would panic and make rash decisions because he couldn't reach me.
I'd been fighting for phone privileges since my arrival, desperate to reassure him that I was safe.
Just as I was analyzing my options for a prolonged detention, a guard appeared with unexpected news.
"You're being released," he announced.
My instincts screamed that something was wrong.
Then a familiar voice cut through my confusion: "Sophia? Are you all right?"
I turned, certain I was hallucinating. "Oliver? How are you here?"
He strode toward me, his eyes quickly scanning me from head to toe. Despite my neat appearance, I knew I looked exhausted, with dark circles under my eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
"I'm fine," I said automatically, then shook my head in bewilderment. "But you—how did you get here?"
Oliver reached for my hand, and I felt the slight dampness of nervous sweat on his palm. This wasn't a casual rescue.
"Don't talk yet," he said urgently. "We need to get out of here first. And remember—we're in a relationship now. You're my fiancée."
The word 'fiancée' sent heat rushing to my cheeks, but I felt the tension in his grip and understood immediately. This was a performance, and our lives might depend on how well we played our parts.
---
Oliver's POV
Several Zenoria officials entered the room, accompanied by diplomatic personnel. I'd spent years perfecting my language skills for moments like this, and now they were Sophia's lifeline.
I positioned myself protectively in front of her, every inch the devoted boyfriend, while she played her part perfectly by linking her arm through mine. Her quick understanding of the situation reminded me why I'd always admired her intelligence.
When the officials suggested we stay for dinner, I knew I had to be bold. "We've been apart for so long. Right now, all I want is to get my fiancée back to our hotel room for some privacy."
The crude directness of my words made the officials chuckle knowingly, and I felt the tension in the room evaporate. Sometimes the most effective diplomacy was the most basic human understanding.
"I'm sure you gentlemen understand how it feels to miss someone you love," I continued with a charming smile, and just like that, we were walking free.
In the car back to the hotel, I was acutely aware of Sophia's amazed stare. The driver was local, so we couldn't speak freely, but her eyes were full of questions that made my chest tight with emotions I'd been suppressing for years.
When I noticed the driver watching us in the rearview mirror, Sophia leaned her head against my shoulder with practiced intimacy. The simple contact sent electricity through my entire body.
"Sophia," I said, my voice lower than intended, "did you miss me these past few days?"
Her throat moved as she swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice carried an emotion that made my heart race. "Yes. Not just these few days. I've missed you every moment, every day."
Even knowing this was likely part of our performance, I felt something fundamental shift in my chest. The walls I'd built around my feelings for her began to crumble.
"I missed you too," I murmured back, pouring years of suppressed longing into those simple words. "Every single day."