Chapter 132

Chapter 132
Anna POV

I stared at the gray concrete ceiling of my cell, mentally counting the hours. This was day two of being locked up. The lights buzzed overhead with an annoying persistence that made it impossible to truly rest. Not that I could sleep anyway—my mind was too busy racing through everything that had happened.

Helen. I hadn't visited her in weeks. With everything going on, I'd barely had time to check in with her nurses. Was she comfortable? Did she miss me? Could she even sense my absence in her vegetative state? The thought of her lying there alone made my chest tighten with a familiar ache.

I shifted on the thin mattress, trying to find a comfortable position. Impossible task.

I wondered how Elara was doing. If she woke up and learned Vincent was dead, she would be devastated.

And Edward...

My throat tightened. Edward must be under tremendous pressure right now. The company stock fluctuating wildly after the scandal, his mother lying unconscious in a hospital bed, the media circus that followed.

He must hate me. After everything with his mother, after I kept Elara's secret from him, after all the ways I'd disappointed him... why would he see me as anything other than another problem to clean up?

"I lost him," I told myself firmly, blinking back the stupid tears that threatened. "I lost his trust. I lost everything."

I'd messed it all up. Every single thing. And now here I was, locked behind steel and concrete, exactly where someone like me probably belonged. But strangely, there was an odd sort of peace in this place. At least nobody was trying to kill me here.

"Parker," a guard's voice cut through my thoughts, her tone all business. "You have a visitor."

I sat up, confused. A visitor? I hadn't expected anyone.

Following the guard through a maze of corridors, I tried to prepare myself for whoever it was.

The general visitation area hit me like a wall of noise. Conversations overlapped—wives visiting husbands, children seeing parents, lawyers consulting clients. The fluorescent lighting was even harsher here, making everything feel too bright, too exposed. I scanned the crowded room, looking for whoever had come.

Then I froze.

Edward sat in a corner seat, and the sight of him knocked the breath from my lungs.

He was impeccably dressed as always. But it was his eyes that caught me. Even from across the room, I could see the dark shadows beneath them, the slight redness around the edges that spoke of sleepless nights. His posture was rigid, but there was something in the set of his shoulders, a heaviness I'd never seen before.

Our eyes met across the room, and suddenly every other sound faded away. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, my heart pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.

His eyes... God, his eyes. They weren't cold or angry like I'd expected. They were dark with something I couldn't quite name—concern? Relief? Pain? All of it mixed together in a way that made my chest ache.

I walked toward him slowly, each step feeling like I was moving through water. My hands trembled slightly at my sides. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain, didn't know if he'd even want to hear it.

When I was still a few feet away, Edward suddenly stood. Before I could process what was happening, he closed the distance between us in two long strides and pulled me into his arms.

The embrace was tight, almost desperate. One of his hands pressed against the small of my back, the other cradling the back of my head. I stood frozen for a moment, my arms hanging uselessly at my sides, my mind struggling to catch up with reality.

"This is a hallucination," I thought wildly. "It has to be. After everything that's happened—after his mother, after the lies, after all of it—he can't actually be holding me like this."

But the warmth of his body was too real, the familiar scent of his cologne too sharp, the slight tremor in his hands too tangible to be anything but real.

He's really here. He's actually holding me.

The realization hit me like a physical blow, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

Slowly, carefully, I lifted my hands and let them rest against his chest. Then, with what felt like the hardest thing I'd ever done, I gently pushed back, creating space between us.

"Edward..." My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

When I looked up at him, my vision blurred. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear it, but it was no use. My eyes were filling with tears, hot and unwelcome, making everything swim.

His eyes met mine, and what I saw there made my breath catch. They were softer than I'd ever seen them, filled with an intensity that was almost painful to witness. Not anger. Not disappointment. Something else entirely—something raw and unguarded that he usually kept locked away.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice carrying that familiar controlled tone, but underneath it I heard something that made my heart clench—genuine concern, maybe even fear.

He guided me to sit at the nearby table, his hand lingering at my elbow as if he was afraid I might disappear.

When we sat down, he leaned forward slightly. "I went to see George Wilson at the hospital." His eyes held mine steadily, and I could see the anger simmering in their depths—not at me, but for me. "He told me everything. This was all Vera's doing."

"Vera?" The name felt like acid on my tongue.

"She hired George to kill you and then have you barely alive enough to donate bone marrow to Irene." His eyes never left my face, watching my reaction carefully. "That incident months ago at the restaurant when he confronted you—that was Vera too."

I sat back, stunned but not entirely surprised. A cold realization washed over me. "That sounds exactly like something Vera would do," I said quietly, my fingers twisting together in my lap.

"What are you going to do about it?" I asked carefully, searching his eyes for any hint of his intentions, bracing myself for disappointment.

Edward's eyes flashed with determination, his jaw setting in that stubborn way I recognized. "Have her arrested. This is conspiracy to commit murder. She should be on trial." His voice hardened, and I saw genuine anger there—not the cold corporate anger, but something personal and heated. "I was completely wrong about her. I never thought my childhood friend could be so vicious."

Surprise must have shown on my face because his eyes softened slightly, a corner of his mouth almost—almost—quirking up.

"You're really willing to go after Vera?" I couldn't keep the disbelief from my voice. "This doesn't affect your interests at all. Why would you do this?"

His eyes locked with mine, intense and unwavering, and in them I saw something that made my breath catch—something vulnerable and honest that he rarely let show. "Why would I do this?" His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Can't you feel why?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. His eyes searched mine, and I saw frustration there—frustration that I couldn't see what seemed obvious to him.

"Do you think if George had failed this time, Vera would have given up?" His eyes darkened with concern, almost fear. "There would have been a next time, and a time after that. Can you guarantee you'd escape every hitman she hires?"

Fresh tears welled up in my eyes.

Edward noticed my tears immediately, his eyes tracking each one as it fell. He reached across the table, his thumb gently brushing one away from my cheek. The touch was so tender it made my chest ache. His eyes followed the path of his thumb, then returned to mine, and what I saw there—concern, protectiveness, something deeper he wouldn't name—made it hard to breathe.

"I'm getting you out of here," he said firmly, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'll make sure justice is served. Everyone who has hurt you will pay." His eyes held a promise, fierce and unbreakable.

"I've already arranged for lawyers," he continued, his voice softening slightly as his eyes traced my face like he was memorizing every detail. "You should be released on bail very soon."

I felt my body relax slightly, the tension I'd been carrying for two days finally starting to ease.

"Thank you for still wanting to help me," I whispered, my voice breaking slightly on the last word. I looked up at him, seeing the shadows under his eye. "After everything..."

His eyes softened further, and he shook his head slightly. "Don't," he said quietly, and the single word carried more meaning than a whole speech.

As the guard announced that visitation time was ending, Edward's eyes held mine for one more long moment. They were warm, concerned, and filled with something that looked almost like... hope.

Here, behind these steel walls, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the detention center, I'd found something I thought I'd lost long ago. Not freedom—not yet. But the courage to lean on someone else. The courage to believe that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I thought.