"Raya… open the door. We need to talk about your future."
Walker's voice came calmly from behind the door. Calm in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.
I stared at the doorknob without blinking. My hands trembled on top of the hospital blanket. My whole body felt heavy, sore, and unfamiliar—but the anger in my chest felt painfully alive.
"Steven…" I whispered.
He turned quickly. "Yes?"
"This time… don't let them win."
His jaw tightened. He walked to the door and opened it just slightly, standing tall and deliberately blocking the entrance.
Through the narrow gap, I could see Walker standing neatly in his expensive suit. Beside him was a man in formal attire holding a thick folder. Berta stood slightly behind, her face filled with concern that looked far too perfect to be real.
"We only need Raya's signature," Walker said lightly. "Temporary documents. So the family assets can continue running while she's being treated."
Steven didn't move. "She's not strong enough to read anything."
The man in the suit smiled politely. "I am the Haoulten family notary. This is standard procedure. If Miss Raya is unable to make decisions, the legal husband has the right to become the temporary guardian."
The words hit my head like a hammer.
Temporary guardian.
Temporary could easily become forever.
I took a slow breath. "Read it from there."
They fell silent for a moment, clearly not expecting me to still be conscious enough to resist.
The notary opened the folder. "Power of attorney for the management of assets, accounts, shares, properties, and medical decisions in case the patient is unable to make conscious decisions."
"Stop," I said.
The room instantly felt colder.
"Medical decisions?" I repeated softly.
Walker gave a thin smile. "Just a formality. In case something unfortunate happens—"
"Like death?" I cut him off.
Silence.
I could hear my own heavy breathing behind the bandages.
"I'm not dead yet, Walker," I said quietly but clearly. "And I can still think."
Walker's expression shifted. His gentle mask cracked for a split second, revealing the coldness he had hidden all this time.
"Raya," he said softly, "your condition is unstable. You need someone to handle everything."
"I have someone," I replied.
My eyes shifted slowly to Steven.
"Him."
All eyes immediately turned to him.
Walker let out a short, humorless laugh. "A bodyguard?"
"The man who saved my life," I shot back.
The notary looked uncomfortable. Berta turned her face away, but I caught a flash of irritation in her eyes.
Walker slowly closed the folder. "Alright. We won't force it today."
Today.
Which meant they would try again.
Before leaving, Berta looked at me for a long moment. Our eyes met.
And for the first time, she didn't hide anything.
Not sadness. Not worry.
But disappointment.
As if their plan had been disturbed simply because I was still alive.
Steven closed the door again.
I closed my eyes, but the images of Walker and Berta refused to leave my mind.
Those faces used to be the safest place for me.
Now, just remembering them made my chest tighten.
"I really didn't see it all this time…" I whispered.
Steven stood not far from my bed, watching the monitor beside me. "People like them never look dangerous until it's too late."
"I trusted them," I said quietly. "I gave them access to my house… my life… even to my father…"
My voice broke at the end of the sentence.
Steven stepped closer. "You're not wrong for trusting. They're wrong for betraying."
Tears slid down my face again.
For the first time, the pain in my body felt smaller than the pain in my chest.
"I don't even know… what else they've done behind my back…"
Steven went silent. His expression hardened, as if he knew something he didn't want to say yet.
And that made my stomach twist.
"Steven…" my voice weakened, "if they're this bold with me… what have they been doing to my father all this time…?"
He didn't answer immediately.
He just stayed quiet.
And that silence was far more terrifying than any answer.
The room became very still, filled only with the steady sound of the monitor.
My breathing trembled.
"They want me to have no control over anything," I murmured.
Steven nodded slowly. "And they're moving fast. Too fast."
I stared at the ceiling. The white light felt blinding.
"My father…" my voice softened. "They're going to do the same thing to him…"
Steven stayed quiet again.
And that silence made my heart pound uneasily.
"Steven… tell me."
He took a slow breath. "This morning, before you woke up… the hospital where your father is being treated received a request to transfer medical guardianship."
My blood seemed to stop flowing.
"In whose name?"
He didn't need to answer. I already knew.
My tears fell again.
"They're not covering their tracks…" I whispered.
"They're erasing the entire crime."
My head felt heavy. The memories of the warehouse, the fire, the poison, and Walker's face mixed into one.
They didn't just want me dead.
They wanted my entire family erased.
Steven stood up slowly. His expression turned serious.
"I need to go for a while."
"Where?"
"To take care of something before they do."
I wanted to ask more, but my body suddenly felt extremely tired. The medicine in my IV started working, making my consciousness drift.
"Steven…"
He came closer again. "I'm here."
"Don't let them touch my father…"
He nodded. "I promise."
My eyelids began to feel heavy.
But before I completely fell asleep, I saw Steven speaking quietly with the doctor in the corner of the room.
Very quietly.
Yet through the haze of my fading awareness, I could still catch a piece of that sentence.
I watched Steven's lips move as he spoke to the doctor, but the sound around me felt distant, as if I were sinking underwater.
For a brief second, fear crept back into my chest—not the fear of pain, not the fear of my ruined face, but the fear of losing control again while lying helpless in this bed.
They thought I was weak. Powerless. Easy to erase.
But they were wrong.
Because for the first time since the fire, my mind was no longer thinking about survival.
It was thinking about retaliation.
And I realized something chilling.
If they were moving this fast to silence me…
Then I had to move faster to destroy them.
"Prepare the operating room. We don't have much time."