Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Hope finally sneezed out, regaining her consciousness. She opened her eyes groggily, adjusting to the bright rays of the day. Though, her eyes were opened and her consciousness had been regained. However, she was totally lost in what was happening to her, where she was.
She grunted, little ache settling in as she sat up on the bed, cupping her sweaty forehead with her palms.
Soon, the doctor rushed up to her and spoke. “ Happy to see you back to life, Hope Alejandra. You barely escape death.”
Her heart flustered as he spoke, staring at his lips maybe she could find the reason he said so on them. Then she remembered. Everything. How her P A, Penelope, screamed her name as she collapsed in the office during the trial test between her and her brother, Noah.
Then, those words escape her lips. “ Where is Penelope? What I'm I doing here? Where's is Julian?”
The doctor, taking a slow swallow and deep sigh, he raised his hand, signalling a peaceful gesture and said. “ You need to have some rest now, Miss Hope. You've lost so much strength to start up with these.”
“ But–” She was about to speak when the doctor turned around and walked away, not giving her a space to talk.
Seeing as the doctor walked away, she reclined back to the bed, resting her head on the pillow as she thought about what could have led her here.
—----
After some minutes, Penelope walked into the hospital after hearing that Hope was back to life. She was in her palazzo trouser and a crispy top. Her long hair was fastened and knotted at the middle. In her hand was a flask of hot coffee mixed with honey— Hope's favorite tea.
Getting to the hospital bed, Hope had slept off. But with the waver of Penelope's shadow with her steps , she jerked back to her wake. Hope wondered how she could fall asleep in just a few minutes.
“ Boss, I'm happy you're awake,” Penelope said, blushing and took a seat closer to her.
“ Penelope, what's going on? What am I doing here?” Hope asked, her voice laced with confusion.
Hope’s eyelids fluttered as Penelope settled onto the edge of the hospital bed, careful not to jostle her boss. The warm scent of honeyed coffee drifted between them.
“Penelope,” Hope whispered, voice still rough, “tell me exactly what happened.”
Penelope’s careful composure slipped. She swallowed, brought the flask to her lips, and took a small, steadying sip before setting it down. “You and Noah were in the company’s trial room. It was the final assessment—your presentation on the Alejandra Initiative versus his counterproposal. You were on fire, Hope. You—”
Hope’s chest tightened. “Noah… He was arguing that our projections were unrealistic.”
Penelope nodded. “Yes. You were countering him point by point. Then—” She paused, voice trembling. “You slumped. Your water glass… I saw you lift it to your lips, then everything went black.”
A cold knot formed in Hope’s stomach. “Are you saying I was poisoned?”
Penelope’s eyes filled. “The doctor said the toxicology report came back positive. A fast‑acting neurotoxin. He… he said if you’d been alone another minute, you wouldn’t have woken up.”
Hope’s hand flew to her mouth. Her mind reeled: the heated debate, the spark in her veins—then the sudden void. “Noah would never…” She shook her head. “He loves me.”
Penelope’s expression was resolute. “I know how close you two are. But someone wanted you out of that room—and out of the running.” She gestured to the door beyond which the doctor had disappeared. “Your rivals on the board have been ruthless. I overheard two of them talking the night before: they said they’d ‘deal with the obstacle.’”
A low, furious burn ignited behind Hope’s eyes. “We’ll find out who—”
Footsteps approached. The doctor reappeared, clipboard in hand. He cleared his throat softly. “Miss Alejandra, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have your test results here.”
Hope sat up straighter. “Go ahead.”
He offered the sheet. “Your vitals are stable now. The toxin was identified as belladonna alkaloid—deadly in high doses, but thanks to Penelope’s quick call for emergency medics, we detoxified your system in time. You will need a few days’ rest, but you should make a full recovery.”
Hope swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Thank you, doctor.” He nodded and left.
As the door closed, Hope turned back to Penelope. “Belladonna. It’s… it’s a plant extract. Hard to trace unless you test every sample.” She took a trembling breath. “Penelope, I need you to get me everything—security footage, water glass samples, even the trial‑room attendants’ statements.”
Penelope gave a sharp nod. “Already on it. I’ve notified security to lock down the footage. I’ll have the files by this afternoon.”
Hope closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the moment she’d lifted that glass. A slow, determined smile curved her lips. “Good. Because whoever did this is going to regret it.”
Penelope reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’ll stay right here, Boss. Whatever you need.”
Hope opened her eyes, fierce and unyielding. “First—I want to see Noah. I need to know he’s safe, and that he had nothing to do with this.”
Penelope stood. “I’ll fetch him. He’s waiting in the lobby.”
As Penelope hurried out, Hope exhaled and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her strength was returning, fueled by righteous anger. She pressed her palms together, closed her eyes, and sent a silent promise to herself: she would expose the poisoner, clear her brother’s name, and emerge stronger than ever.
The doors swung open and Noah stepped in, relief flooding his features when he saw her upright. “Hope—” He crossed the distance in two strides and took her hand. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Hope studied him closely—his eyes haunted from worry, his posture stiff with guilt. “Noah, I know you’d never…”
He shook his head vehemently. “I would never hurt you. You know that. I was… I was devastated when they carried you out. I’ve been tearing this place apart, demanding answers.”
She squeezed his hand. “I believe you. But someone did this. And I intend to find out who.”
Noah’s jaw set. “Whatever you need, I’m with you.”