Fourteen days had passed since William opened his eyes, and with every tick of the clock, the suffocating cloud that had hung over the city finally began to lift.
The relief in the Torres empire was palpable.
William's recovery was nothing short of a medical miracle, his strength returning to him in steady, stubborn waves. His private VIP suite had essentially been transformed into a high-society greenhouse, overflowing with fresh, extravagant flower arrangements and get-well cards from global dignitaries, board members, and corporate elites every single day.
Isabella had stayed for the first week, ensuring he was out of critical danger before finally flying back to her life in London.
I tried my absolute best to stay as close to William as I possibly could.
But reality had a cruel way of intruding.
