Chapter5
At the final instant, Ethan Sterling lunged forward, pouring every ounce of strength into yanking
Sloane back.
A car screeched, too late to stop. Its bumper slammed into me, hurling me across the pavement.
Blood filled my mouth. Through blurred vision, I saw Ethan cradling Sloane, shouting hoarsely for
help.
Agony split me apart, but a grim smile tugged at my lips.
When I had tackled Sloane, I had grabbed a shard of porcelain and driven it deep into her abdomen. The jagged edge had cut my own palm wide open, but that pain was nothing compared to the wound in my heart.
Hot blood bubbled up my throat, choking me.
The stream of headlights blurred into a wall of steel and light, blocking my view.
Flat on the ground, I reached a trembling hand toward the endless sky above.
My babies… I’m coming to find you…
But death didn’t claim me.
When I woke, the sharp tang of disinfectant filled my nose.
“Oh
my God!”
Nurse Kelly–blonde hair, blue eyes–gasped in shock, then bolted out of the room, her figure vanishing through the doorway.
Moments later, a group of doctors in white coats crowded around my bed. Their faces were of every color and creed, their hands busy with instruments.
They flashed lights in my eyes, pressed stethoscopes to my chest, listened to my breathing, checked
every inch of me.
Amid their rapid English, I pieced together fragments of meaning.
I had been in a coma for a month.
Nurse Kelly returned to change my IV.
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“Where am I? How did I get here?” My voice was raw, unsteady.
She gave me a playful wink.
“You’ll have to ask the handsome man who brought you in.”
Confused, I watched her disappear again.
Only then did I notice the corner of a card tucked beneath my pillow.
I pulled it free. On the front, messy Chinese characters sprawled across the paper.
“Vivian Hart, wake up soon–you still owe me thirty million!”
“Promise me you’ll be happy. Promise me you’ll be safe. Promise me you‘ ll be well.”
I froze, then understood immediately.
There was only one man who would write something so nonsensical, yet so tender.
Outside, the sky bled into shades of orange and crimson. Evening sunlight painted the horizon.
“Vivian.”
The voice came from the door–warm, tinged with laughter.
I turned my head.
A tall man stood there in a black turtleneck, his posture elegant, his frame sharp.
My breath caught.
His features had grown more refined, his aura colder–years of corporate warfare etched into the cut of his jaw and the curve of his mouth. Yet his eyes–those soft, smiling eyes shaped like peach blossoms were exactly as I remembered.
“You saved me?” My voice trembled with disbelief.
Miles Prescott strode over and gently tapped my forehead with his knuckle.
“Idiot. You were hurt like that and didn’t think to call me for revenge? You had to try and do it yourself?”
His smile faded, shadows passing through his gaze.
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“If I hadn’t seen the headlines about Ethan Sterling’s mistress and rushed back from the States to check on you–God knows where you’d still be lying.”
I gave a small, bitter laugh.
“Ten years apart, and the first time we meet again, you see me like this–broken, pathetic.”
We had grown up together in Havenridge Orphanage, all three of us. Ethan, Miles, and me.
But ten years ago, Miles‘ s birth parents found him and took him back to the United States. We
never saw each other again.
Before he left, he had asked me if I wanted to go with him.
I had chosen Northbridge City. I had chosen Ethan Sterling.
Back then, at eighteen, Ethan had clutched me with red–rimmed eyes and vowed, As long as you’ll be with me, Vivian, I’d give you my life.
At twenty–eight, he had tossed mine aside like it meant nothing.
Hearts change. Love fades.
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