Everybody went home after Anna's surgery, finally able to rest after the chaos of the past few days. The mansion felt strangely quiet without her voice, and though exhaustion pulled at them, every one of them slept with their phones nearby, waiting for updates.
The very next morning, Han showed up at the hospital with a bouquet of tulips and a small basket of strawberries and grapes. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, peeking inside.
"Flowers for the lady," he said, placing them on the side table with a half-smile.
Anna, propped up in bed with a blanket over her lap, looked up. "Why, thank you."
Han pulled a chair close and sat down. "So, how you doin'?"
"I'm better," she admitted, her voice softer than usual.
"You have no idea how scared I was, Anna."
The nickname slipped out naturally, and Anna stiffened. No one except her family had ever used it like that.
"I like it..." she said quietly.
Han blinked. "Like what?"
"The sound of my name coming from your mouth."
Something in Han softened. He leaned forward, eyes unreadable. "Oh really... what else do you like hearing from me?"
Anna blushed like a tomato, fumbling for words. Just as she was about to reply, the door creaked open. Clyde and Rezi walked in with takeout bags in hand, saving her from answering.
"How are you holding up, Anna?" Rezi asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I'm living," Anna replied dryly, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Annalise, I've got good news for you," Clyde said, standing tall like he'd been waiting all day to share it.
"Well, what is it?" Anna asked, raising a brow.
"Turns out Carlos was a former client of my dad."
Her eyes narrowed. "And how is that good news for me?"
"It's good because my dad found out Carlos is corrupt—shady deals, fraud, laundering, you name it. And..." Clyde paused for dramatic effect, "...my dad has all the evidence to completely destroy him."
Anna sat straighter, a spark of energy returning to her. "Okay, now that's what I call killer news."
"Heck yeah, you do," Clyde said, grinning.
The scene shifted elsewhere—inside a sleek, dark meeting room at Carlos's company. He sat at the head of the table, voice calm but sharp as a blade. His men shuffled nervously as he laid out plans, his mind already plotting ways to crush the Leamington empire once and for all.
Back at the hospital, life slowed into a quieter rhythm. Han began visiting daily, sometimes bringing flowers, sometimes books, sometimes just his presence. When Anna spiked a fever one night, he refused to leave. He stayed by her side, a damp towel on her forehead, murmuring reassurance she was too weak to hear.
Later, when she finally drifted into a calmer sleep, Han leaned back in his chair and whispered to the silence.
"I never thought I could feel like this for anyone after my parents died... to feel happy, to care this much. I guess she changed me."
A small smile tugged at his lips as he gently held her hand. Slowly, exhaustion overcame him, and he drifted to sleep beside her bed.
When Anna woke, the first thing she noticed was the warmth of his hand curled around hers. Her gaze followed up to his face, softened in sleep. She leaned closer, whispering almost without realizing it.
"I never noticed you have such long lashes."
"They've been like that since I was little," Han murmured, half-asleep but somehow still aware. His eyes fluttered open slowly, meeting hers.
Anna froze. They were so close, breaths brushing. Her pulse hammered, and just as she was about to stumble out an excuse—
"Well, well, well," a voice rang from the doorway.
Both of them jumped. Delphine stood with her arms crossed, eyes glinting with mischief. "What's going on here? Did I interrupt something?"
Anna and Han scrambled to explain, words tripping over each other, but Delphine only smirked knowingly before setting a folder of business updates on the side table.
"You two should really learn to hide your secrets better," she teased before walking out, leaving Anna red-faced and Han uncharacteristically flustered.
For the first time since the surgery, the hospital room felt alive—with laughter, warmth, and the quiet promise of something new.
The week after her surgery passed in a blur of medicines, hospital meals, and Han's steady presence by her side. Every day he showed up—sometimes with flowers, sometimes with food, and sometimes with nothing but quiet companionship. By the fourth day, Anna could finally walk the hospital halls without feeling like her legs would give out.
When Delphine arrived a week later, she looked Anna up and down with a rare softness in her eyes.
"You're ready," she said simply.
"Ready for what?" Anna tilted her head.
"To go home. To start living again."
Leaving the hospital behind felt like shutting the door on a chapter Anna had been forced into. Back at the mansion, sunlight spilled through the tall windows as though the house itself welcomed her return. The staff cheered softly when she walked in, and for the first time in weeks, Anna allowed herself to believe that she wasn't fragile anymore—she was surviving.
Days melted into one another. Physical therapy, business reports delivered by Delphine, Clyde's endless check-ins, and Han's watchful gaze all became part of her routine. Slowly, Anna regained not just her health but her fire.
By the end of the month, Delphine called for a meeting in the grand dining room.
"In three days, Annalise turns twenty-one," she announced. "And I intend for the world to know she is not just alive—but stronger than ever. There will be a charity gala, benefiting children's hospitals, tied to her birthday celebration. It will be both a party and a statement. Annalise Leamington is back."
Anna blinked at her aunt's words. For a moment, she felt the weight of expectation settle on her shoulders—but then something new stirred within her. Determination.
"Fine," she said, surprising even herself with the steel in her voice. "Let them watch. I'll show them I'm not the girl they can break."
The night of the gala arrived like a storm of diamonds and silk. Flashing lights from paparazzi cameras painted the steps of the Leamington estate. Guests in glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos filled the ballroom, crystal chandeliers scattering light across polished marble.
Anna descended the staircase in a sleek, midnight-blue gown that hugged her form perfectly, her chin high, her posture regal. The room hushed at her entrance—not because she was fragile, but because she radiated power.
Delphine's plan had worked. The gala wasn't just a party; it was a reintroduction.
When Anna took the stage to thank the guests, everyone expected polite words of gratitude. Instead, she gripped the microphone with steady hands and said:
"I've been through hell these past weeks, but let me be clear—this is not the story of my downfall. This is my beginning. And to anyone out there who thinks they can silence me, or bury me..." Her eyes glittered, voice sharp as glass. "Watch closely. I'm not the one who breaks—I'm the one who rebuilds. Stronger. Louder. Unstoppable."
The crowd erupted into applause, though her words left an electric tension lingering in the air.
Han, watching from the side of the stage, felt something shift in his chest. Clyde, too, noticed the change—not just in Anna, but in the crowd. Their eyes weren't all admiration. Some were calculating, some cold.
"See that?" Clyde muttered to Han, tilting his chin toward a group of men lingering by the bar. "They don't look like donors."
Han's jaw tightened. "Yeah. And they've been watching her all night."
Both of them scanned the room, alert. Then Clyde's face paled.
"No way..."
Han followed his line of sight. At the far end of the ballroom, through the crowd of clinking champagne glasses and polite laughter, a figure emerged.
Carlos.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, a faint smirk playing at his lips, he moved through the crowd like a wolf in a room full of sheep. His presence alone seemed to drop the temperature by several degrees.
And just like that—the gala, the celebration, the triumph—shifted into something else entirely.
A battlefield.