Chapter 9

Ethan Sinclair's consciousness drifted in darkness.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, the blinding white light made him instinctively squint. The sharp scent of disinfectant filled his nose, and the IV fluid dripped steadily from the bag above him.

"You're awake?" A nurse's delighted voice reached him. "You were unconscious for three whole days. It's a miracle you pulled through."

He stared blankly at the ceiling, unable to tell if this was a dream or reality. Only when a dull ache throbbed in his chest did he realize—he had truly survived.

"Don't move." The nurse pressed down on his arm as he tried to lift it. "You lost too much blood. You need rest."

Ethan lay still, letting her change his bandages. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting bright reflections on the white sheets, making his eyes sting.

The days in the hospital passed quietly. He hired a caretaker to assist him, dutifully taking his medication and undergoing check-ups. The doctors said he was recovering well, but each time they examined him, they hesitated before speaking.

"Your family..." one finally ventured. "Why hasn’t anyone come to visit?"

Ethan turned his gaze to the window, his voice soft. "I don’t have any."

His phone buzzed. A photo from Lucas Whitmore appeared—Victoria Montgomery feeding him fruit, both of them smiling sweetly. Ethan swiped the notification away without reaction and returned to his book.

On the day of his discharge, the sun was unusually bright. Just as he finished packing, his phone rang.

"Mr. Sinclair, your visa has been approved."

The corners of his lips lifted slightly. "I’ll come pick it up today."

As he hung up, the door opened behind him. Victoria stood there, her brows furrowed. "You’re leaving the country?"

Ethan’s smile faded. He turned back to his suitcase. "Not your concern."

"How is it not?" Her voice rose. "We’re still married!"

"I’ve already signed the divorce papers." He didn’t look up. "We can go to the Civil Affairs Bureau anytime."

Victoria let out a cold laugh. "You think this will make me pay attention?" She tossed an invitation onto the bed. "Lucas and I are getting married tomorrow. You will be there."

Ethan picked up the invitation, his fingers trembling faintly. "I’ll be there on time."

His immediate agreement caught her off guard. She opened her mouth to speak, but her phone rang. After a brief call, she threw out a hurried, "Don’t forget to move into the villa," before leaving.

Ethan stood by the window, watching her disappear beyond the hospital gates. Sunlight fell across his pale face, revealing a faint, relieved smile.

That afternoon, he collected his visa and mailed a carefully prepared package. As the courier took the box, he murmured, "Deliver it to this address tomorrow at noon. Tell her... I wish her a happy wedding."

The next morning, Ethan wheeled his suitcase into the airport. Before boarding, he took one last look at the city, then deleted every contact without hesitation.

As the plane soared into the sky, he leaned against the window and closed his eyes. The cabin was silent except for the hum of the engines. This time, he was finally free of that nightmare.