Chapter 26: Whispers behind the door.

Chapter 26: Whispers behind the door.
The air outside was bright, but the corridor inside the hospital was dim and chilled. Sherry moved slowly, cradled in silence, a faint hospital blanket still around her shoulders. She didn't look back at the wardroom. She didn't need to.

Enzo walked beside her, tall and dressed in black, his sunglasses covering his unreadable expression. He said nothing to her. Not a word. She nods to the attending nurses and gives a clipped thanks to the doctor as he signs her discharge papers. Even Ethan followed behind like a ghost-quiet, efficient, and guarded.

Not once did Enzo look into Sherry's eyes.

By the time they reached the waiting black car, she wasn't sure if her legs trembled from fatigue, unease, or the pleasure exercise she did the other day that multiplied and worsened her pain. She slid in beside him. No touch. No comforting word. The space between them was too loud with what wasn't being said.

The penthouse hadn't changed. That sterile, luxurious perfection shimmered under soft lighting. But something was off. It was too clean. Too untouched. Like no one had lived in it since she left.

A private nurse helped her into the bedroom, the one she and Enzo supposedly shared. She hadn't been back since Tokyo, since the attack, since...

"She needs to rest. No disturbances," Enzo told the staff firmly. "All her schedules and meetings have been canceled for the week. All of them."
The nurse nodded, adjusting her pillows and checking her vitals.
Enzo hovered in the doorway, arms folded, eyes fixed on the monitor reading her blood pressure, not her face.

When he finally spoke to Sherry, his voice held that boardroom calm. "You'll stay in bed. No exceptions."
"I'm not a child," she murmured, meeting his eyes.

A pause. He looked at her, really looked, but only for a heartbeat.
"I'm aware."

He turned and left.
Sherry lay back, eyes drifting to the pale ceiling, emotions folding over one another like a tide. Her mind raced: Tokyo. Robert. The strange, flirty billionaires. Victoria's whisper. The hospital video clip. And now this... this cold shell of a husband.

He'd saved her life.
But now he wouldn't even hold her hand.
Was he protecting her...? or hiding something?

Later That Afternoon, the sun dipped lower, and the city began to glow outside their windows. Sherry couldn't sleep. The quiet buzz of the city made the silence in the penthouse worse.
She rose from bed, slowly, her bare feet cold against the hardwood floor as she shuffled down the hallway in oversized slippers. Every step felt too loud. Like she wasn't supposed to be out of bed.

As she passed Enzo's home office, the door stood ajar.
A voice leaked through Enzo's, sharp and clipped, edged with tension.

"...I know the board wants the orphanage contract tied to the marriage terms, but it's not our fault we were already engaged then, so I had to use that opportunity to announce our engagement in the conference room because I believed that we passed the criteria given to us by the organization.... Leave her out of it. She's still recovering. The main thing is that we bagged the contract... And the most important thing is that she's my wife. That's what matters."

She froze.
Her blood ran cold.
Orphanage. Contract. Marriage. Bagged the contract.

Each word slammed into her ribs like a punch. She shoved the door open.
"Who the hell were you talking to?"

Enzo turned, startled but composed. He ended the call with a single swipe. His face was unreadable, jaw clenched.
"That's none of your concern," he said evenly.

Her breath shook. "None of my concern? You just admitted our marriage was used for your business deal like it was a fucking strategy. But you lied to me that it was a way to win and made me sign that motherfucking marriage contract."

He didn't flinch. "It was strategic. Everything we do is."
"So I was a pawn? A press announcement prop? A marriage for optics?"

"You're my wife," he said. "That's not optics. That's a fact."
"Don't twist this. Don't you dare gaslight me!" Her voice cracked. "Were any of all these contracts you made me sign real?" A pause. His eyes flickered with pain, maybe? But he blinked it away.

"You want the truth?" he asked, his voice like gravel. "The deal required us to look legitimate. We did what we had to do."
She stared, stunned.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked again, softly now.
He said nothing, but the silence gave it away.
Sherry's breath caught. "It was her. Wasn't it? Victoria."

Still no answer. She turned, furious and humiliated, and left without another word, the door swinging shut behind her like a guillotine.
Later That Evening, Sherry sat curled on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, phone in hand. The television played low in the background, forgotten. Her mind raced with unanswered questions, unshed tears, and unspoken truths.

She pressed her phone to call Sophie.
"Hey," Sophie answered quickly. "Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? Why didn't you call?"

"I'm sorry," Sherry cut in. Her voice cracked. "I should have told you everything. From the start. It was a contract marriage, Sophie. It wasn't... real. Not at first. I signed it. I agreed and now I think I'm drowning in something I can't even name."

There was silence. Then Sophie spoke, gently but firmly. "I knew something was off. From the beginning. It was too fast. Too smooth. But I didn't want to push you."
"You're not angry?"

"No. I'm just hurt that you didn't trust me enough to share. But I forgive you, okay? We'll talk tomorrow. I'll come over."
Sherry closed her eyes, tears slipping silently down her cheek. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. We need to get you out of whatever mess this is before it destroys you."
THE WARNING
The call ended. Sherry sat in the quiet. She scrolled her phone absently.

A new message popped up.
Unknown Number:

"He lies even when he loves. Are you ready to know why?" Her heart pounded. Another notification blinked on her screen.
An email.
Subject line: "Still breathing?" There was one attachment.

She tapped it open. The image loaded slowly. It was her. In the hospital. Unconscious. Pale. Wires were attached to her skin.
But the angle was from inside the room. Taken up close. A shadow hovered at the edge of the photo.
Sherry's stomach dropped.

She hadn't even been conscious. No visitor had been allowed without Enzo's clearance. Her hands shook as she bolted up, grabbed her phone, and raced down the hall. She found Enzo in the kitchen, pouring a glass of whiskey.
"Look at this." Her voice was thin. Fragile.
He turned. Took the phone. His expression went still. Then it changed to dark, deadly fury flaring in his eyes.

"Where did you get this?"
"Email. Just now."
He immediately pulled out his phone. "Ethan. Get on the surveillance breach now. Someone accessed the hospital security footage. I want the origin traced. Burn whoever did this."
A pause.
Then Ethan's voice, low and clipped, came through the speaker: "Sir... the hack came from an encrypted network. It was clean. Almost untraceable."

Enzo's knuckles turned white around the glass.
"But not clean enough. The encryption tag was signed by a proxy address registered to... Victoria Hayes."
Silence.
Then Enzo said, almost to himself, "She's not just a threat anymore. She's hunting. It was past midnight.
Sherry sat on the bed, staring at the image on her laptop. Her finger hovered over the delete button... but she couldn't press it.
A faint sound.

A video call request popped up. No name. No contact. Just a black icon.
She hesitated. Then clicked. The screen stayed black. Then a voice came, slow, velvety, and cold.
"You're in over your head, Mrs. Blackwood."
Sherry froze.
"If you want to survive, Enzo... Don't just watch your back. Watch your heart."
Her breath hitched. Before she could speak, the door slammed open.
"Sherry!" Enzo's voice cracked like thunder.
She spun the laptop toward her, trying to shut it, but the screen had already gone black.
He stared at her. At her shaking hands. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.
"What was that?"
She said nothing.
The silence between them stretched taut, dangerous, and final.
In that silence lived every question, every wound, and every betrayal they had never spoken aloud and for a while, she thought she wasn't sure if she was safer with Enzo... or without him , and if the main plan to help make Margo Fashion House stand back would go a long way further than it has come under his watch already.