For four long days, Kira Barner lived inside Shen Hospital like a shadow nobody noticed.
The world outside kept moving, but for her, time froze inside that single room where Rachel Shen lay quiet, caught in the deep sleep of a coma.
The machines beside Rachel beeped softly, marking every fragile second of her fight to stay alive.
Kira became part of that silence, keeping watch like it was her duty, even though Rachel was still almost a stranger to her.
Every day was the same. She would stand up, straighten the blankets, smooth them down until Rachel looked comfortable, then sit back down in the chair and whisper little stories.
Her voice was low, almost like she was scared someone would scold her for disturbing Rachel.
Sometimes, she read little parts from a magazine she had picked up.
Sometimes, she just talked about life—about the streets outside, about how she felt as a little kid when rain fell and about her own lonely childhood.
Rachel never answered. But Kira still spoke, because silence was heavier than words.
She hoped Rachel could hear her somewhere deep inside, that the words might reach her, might fight back against that coma holding her prisoner.
Her meals were sad little sandwiches from the vending machine, the kind with stale bread and cheese that tasted like plastic because she couldn't afford to buy for herself, the ones that were sold in Shen's Hospital cafeteria that looked more like a five-star Michelin restaurant.
She washed them down with coffee that was always brought to her everyday by Nurse Sukie. that always smelled burnt. She didn't complain. She didn't leave. She sat and stayed, because in some strange way, that room had become her whole world.
Her phone lay inside her bag, ignored, gathering dust.
She didn't want to check messages or see what was waiting for her outside.
The outside world felt far away, like it belonged to someone else. But on the fifth day, everything changed.
The phone buzzed. Not once, not twice—repeatedly, sharp and insistent like a drill breaking through stone.
The vibration snapped her out of her trance.
At first, she thought about ignoring it, but something in her gut told her to look.
Her hand shook when she pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
The subject line of the email that had arrived made her breath freeze:
Urgent Contract Offer.
Her heart kicked in her chest. It was a tutoring position.
Not just anywhere, but in Zuvada—a kingdom where old money met cutting-edge technology, where power lived in marble palaces and shining glass towers.
To a young girl like Kira, this was salvation, a chance to change her life forever.
But there was a catch. The email said she had to fly out immediately for the interview.
She sat frozen, the phone heavy in her hand, like it had turned to iron. Her stomach twisted with guilt. If she left, Rachel would be alone.
How could she walk away from the lady she had cared for these past four days? She wasn't family, wasn't a nurse, wasn't anyone important to Rachel's life—but still, leaving felt like betrayal.
Her eyes wandered across the hospital room in desperation, looking for an answer, something to tell her what to do.
They landed on the nightstand. Rachel's phone rested there, silver and sleek, glowing faintly under the weak hospital light.
Kira hesitated for a short while then she finally walked to the nightstand and picked it up.
Her thumb scrolled through the contacts list. Numerous names flashed past—but most felt empty. She kept scrolling and scrolling until one her gaze fell on one that stood out like a lighthouse cutting through fog: My Lovely Grandmother ❤❤
The double hearts made her stop scrolling.
A warmth stirred in her chest as she thought to herself that If anyone could be here for Rachel, surely it would be this grandmother.
Without thinking too long, she tapped the number and pressed the phone to her ear.
Her pulse was racing so loud she thought it might drown out the ringtone. On the third ring, a voice answered.
A woman's voice—calm, commanding, strong.
"This is Erica George Shen."
The name alone had weight, but Kira didn't have time to process it.
Her words came out in a rush, stumbling, frantic, tripping over themselves.
She introduced herself quickly, told Erica how she found Rachel that night, told her about staying at the hospital every hour since, about keeping Rachel company, feeding hope into that silent room.
Her throat tightened. "I'm leaving the country today," she said, her voice breaking. "I can't be here to watch over her anymore. Please… come quickly."
A silence fell on the line, heavy and suffocating.
For a second, Kira thought the woman had hung up.
Then Erica's voice came back, sharp as steel but steady as a blade.
"I will take it from here. Thank you for staying with her… I will hurry."
The line went dead.
Kira dropped the phone back onto the nightstand and sat staring at Rachel.
Her chest ached, torn between relief and guilt.
She whispered one last promise and goodbye into the still room, then walked away.
Three days later, the sky above River City groaned under the wings of a beast. A private jet, massive and sleek, cut through the clouds like a knife.
It belonged to Erica George Shen, and its descent was like a predator closing in on prey.
Erica wasn't just anybody.
She was the Chairwoman, CEO, and President of Shen Group.
A woman who ruled one of the most powerful and largest conglomerate empire in the world that had under its umbrella—factories, technology, industries, all of them bent to her rule and will.
In Baswil City, Republic of Norpond, she was more than a CEO; she was like royalty, a sovereign whose throne was built not from gold but from power and fear.
The jet door opened with a hiss, and the first figure that appeared at the top of the stairs made the air itself feel colder.
Tall, Elegant, and Dessed in a dark tailored suit that fit her like armor.
Her face was beautiful but frozen due to old age and her eyes were hard like steel that had been sharpened too many times.
She moved like someone who had never once been unsure of herself.
This was Erica.
Behind her was Susan Mahon, her right hand, her shadow of twenty years, a woman who moved like she had no life except to follow where Erica led.
Erica paused before descending. Her voice, low and absolute, turned to Susan like a commandment written in stone.
"Find Kira Barner. I don't care how. Bring her to me."
"Yes, Madam Shen," Susan whispered, soft as a ghost.
They descended together, step by step, their figures black silhouettes against the grey sky.
At the bottom, a sleek Rolls-Royce Phantom waited, its glossy black body shining like midnight.
But before they could even step inside, chaos exploded.
A swarm of reporters burst past security like a flood breaking through a weak dam.
Flashing lights, microphones shoved forward, shouts filling the air while their voices overlapped laced with wild desperation as the shot her questions:
"Chairwoman Shen! Is it true your granddaughter was in a hit-and-run?"
"Is this a corporate attack?"
"What will Shen Group do about this?"
Erica didn't break her stride, she didn't blink, she didn't flinch and she didn't even look their way.
She moved straight to the car with the unstoppable force of a bullet shot from a gun.
Flashes popped around her like fireworks, but she walked through them untouched because no reporter dared to block her way.
She got into the Rolls-Royce Phantom and closed the door with a soft thud, as if cutting herself off from the noise of the world.
"Drive," she told the chauffeur as she leaned backwards on the comfy seat.
The car pulled away, smooth and fast, sliding off the tarmac, melting into the city traffic before speeding onto the highway.
The Rolls-Royce was silent inside, but the air was charged, heavy, like sitting next to a storm cloud waiting to explode.
Their destination: Shen Hospital.
The hospital rose in the heart of River City like a palace of glass and marble, a monument to the power of the Shen family.
When the Rolls-Royce rolled into the circular driveway, the doors swung open.
Waiting at the entrance was Dr. Mark Zawn, the hospital's managing director, and a team of doctors and surgeons crowded behind him like nervous students waiting for a teacher's scolding.
Among them was the youngest, Dr. Tim, his hands trembling around a folder he couldn't hold steady.
Dr. Zawn bent forward slightly, voice respectful. "Madam Chairwoman Shen."
Erica didn't waste words.
A short nod was all she gave as she swept past him, her heels clicking on the marble like hammers striking.
The doctors scrambled to follow, hurrying to keep up with her long, deliberate steps.
Inside the private elevator, Dr. Zawn began explaining Rachel's condition, his voice was thick with medical language that not many people could understand when been spoken to with by doctors.
Erica's face gave nothing away.
Then Dr. Tim stammered nervously, adding that a kind young sixteen years old girl named Kira Barner had been the one who had brought Rachel in and stayed with her for four days.
"I know," Erica said, voice like a cold wind that shut him up instantly. "I'm already aware of what she did." She said further.
The glass doors of the elevator opened.
Then Erica stepped into the luxurious ward that Dr. Zawn said had Rachel hospitalized inside it.
She looked around the room, and frowned.
She couldn't believe the luxurious ward Dr. Zawn spoke of was the ward she just stepped into.
Though luxurious enough to others, the ward looked mediocre to Erica.
To her eyes, the ward was plain, dim, and small.
Erica inhaled deeply with her eyes narrowing.
The sight of her granddaughter lying in such a bare space made her lips press into a razor-thin line.
She turned her gaze sharply and her glare immediately snapped toward Dr. Zawn, and the poor man could feel sweat sliding down his back because of the glare.
"This is unacceptable," Erica's voice cut through the air. "My granddaughter, the sole heiress of Shen Group, is lying in this small ward? Move her to VVIP Ward 001 immediately."
"Yes—yes, Madam Chairwoman Shen," Dr. Zawn stammered.
An hour later, Rachel was lying in the hospital's most luxurious VVIP Ward.
The VVIP Ward 001 glowed with warm light bouncing off polished wood with walls of glass giving a sweeping view of the city skyline.
The machines in VVIP Ward 001 were top-tier and their soft hum sounded like music promising safety.
This was a room fit for an heiress of the Shen Group and Shen Family.
But peace was a fragile thing.
The press weren't done with Erica yet and they refused to backdown until they got answers to write for their news articles.
The press forced their way past the outer security again, storming down the corridor outside the VVIP Ward 001.
Their voices echoed loudly and their cameras were flashing so fast and the corridor looked like a nightmare strobe light.
Erica stepped out of VVIP Ward 001 and faced the chaos head-on.
Questions fired at her like bullets:
"Chairwoman Shen, is it true your granddaughter was in a hit-and-run?"
"Do you know who's responsible?"
"Is this a corporate attack?"
Her icy eyes turned to Dr. Zawn. She didn't say a word, but her gaze accused him of weakness, of failure, of misusing the resources meant to keep this place secure and as if guilty, he looked down, his face pale as he was unable to meet her stare.
After staring at him in silence for a while, Erica finally turned her gaze away from Dr. Zawn and faced the press.
Her voice was calm, steady, almost soft but every word landed heavy on the ears of the reporters like the strike of a hammer.
"My granddaughter's life was nearly taken," she said, eyes sweeping across the sea of cameras. "She is fighting for her life, and as her grandmother, my heart is broken. I feel useless and angry that I can't fight for her directly. But I will fight for her in another way."
Her voice grew harder, sharper, like a blade scraping steel.
"Whoever did this will wish they were never born. I will personally see to it that they beg for death, and even then, death will not come easily. Because I am Erica George Shen—the female devil who makes death tremble at my feet. I fear no one. Not the government, not the police, not any man. I am what men fear most: Death itself.
"They didn't just run my granddaughter over. They foolishly stepped on the tail of a scorpion. I am that scorpion. And Rachel is the precious tail I will never allow anyone to play with."
Her words dropped like thunder in the corridor.
Cameras clicked, flashes froze her image in light, but the silence that followed was thicker than stone.
Room 3001, Hyle Hotel, River City.
Hours later, the morning light pushed its way through the blinds, painting lines of gold across tangled sheets.
Liam lay awake, staring at Charlotte's sleeping face.
Her hair spread across the pillow like a golden halo, her shoulder bare under the blanket.
She looked peaceful, soft, untouched by the chaos outside.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, catching him staring then a smile tugged at her lips as she greeted "Morning."
"Morning," he whispered back, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
She teased him with a husky laugh. "You've been staring at me. Why were you looking at me like that?"
He smirked faintly. "I don't know. Maybe because I like seeing you like this… calm. Peaceful."
He leaned down and kissed her. It started soft, slow, like it could stay innocent but the spark that always lived between them flared up instantly, turning the kiss into a hot one.
They melted into each other then the sheets twisted with their intimate movement which made their body temperature to start rising—until the loud ringtone of Liam's smartphone cut through the room.
Liam groaned while breaking away.
With a frown, he reached for his smartphone, ready to silence whoever it was that dared to interrupt his intimate moment but when he glanced at the screen of his smartphone, his breath caught in his throat as he saw the caller ID: Rita My Annoying Kid Sis."
Sighing and rubbing his face, he took a deep breath then answered the call reluctantly.
On the other end, Rita's voice burst out, frantic, almost screaming. "Where are you? Mom and Dad have been looking for you everywhere. And… Liam, where's Rachel?"
He sat up straight, confusion tightening his chest as he replied her and said: "I don't know, Rita. We broke up a week ago. I was tired of everything. I told you—my heart felt numb toward her. I couldn't feel anything no matter how hard I tried to make myself to."
There was silence for a moment then Rita's tone dropped, softly but still urgent, saying:"Yes, Liam, I know. You told me before and I've heard if from you multiple times that I've lost count. But that's not why I called. Are you somewhere with a TV? Turn it on. Or find a bar, anywhere, and watch the news. I have to go. Bye."
Before he could respond, the line went dead.
Liam stared at the phone, puzzled, then reached for the TV remote. He turned it on then the screen filled with flashing red letters: BREAKING NEWS.
Below it was Rachel's face. Not smiling. Not laughing. But pale, unconscious, lying in a hospital bed surrounded by machines.