Landon mentally sucked in a sharp breath, his nerves screaming in silent protest.

Realizing something was off, Amelia instantly pulled her hand back, her voice filled with guilt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Landon drew in a mental breath to steady himself, then forced his inner voice to remain calm and composed. "The room has air conditioning."

“Oh, got it.” Amelia immediately turned on the AC, then noticed his phone sitting on the bedside table. She held it above his face, trying to unlock it with facial recognition. But with his eyes closed, the phone couldn’t register his face, failing to unlock.

"The password is 920303," came Landon’s mental reply, his tone devoid of emotion.

“That’s… such a strange number. Does it mean something?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Landon’s inner voice fell silent, refusing to entertain her questions.

Shrugging, Amelia unlocked the phone and navigated to the contacts. Scanning the list, she found Wesley Harrington and promptly dialed his number. “Mr. Harrington, hello-”

“Who is this?” Wesley’s voice burst through the speaker, sharp with confusion.

The number was unmistakably Landon’s, but hearing a woman’s voice on the other end threw him completely off-guard.

Amelia introduced herself quickly, her tone sweet but direct. “I’m Amelia Edwards, uh… Landon’s wife. We just got married,” she stammered.

On the other end, there was nothing but deafening silence. Wesley’s jaw practically hit the floor. Landon’s married? And he didn’t even invite me, his best friend since childhood, to his wedding? What the hell?

A storm brewed in Wesley’s voice as he barked. “Get to the point! If you’ve got something to say, spit it out already.”

Clearing her throat, Amelia explained, “Landon was in a car accident. He’s… in a vegetative state now, and he needs you to come back to be his doctor.”

“What?” Wesley’s shout practically rattled the phone.

Startled, Amelia instinctively lowered the volume, grimacing. So loud. My ears are going to explode. What a hothead. Seriously, these two are cut from the same cloth—both impossible to deal with.

“Anyway,” she continued, her tone light but firm, “he needs you now and he specifically asked for you to be his personal doctor, no one else. If you don’t come, his life might actually be in danger."

Amelia left out the real reason. Landon suspected that the car accident was foul play, and having a trusted friend handle his treatment was crucial to prevent the perpetrator from trying anything sinister.

Wesley’s tone softened, his concern evident. “Take care of Landon. I’ll book the next flight back.”

“Great,” Amelia replied, relieved that the first task was done.

Once that was settled, her next mission was to contact Aaron.

When Aaron picked up and heard that the car accident had been caused intentionally, his reaction was pure shock. “Mrs. Kingsley, who told you this?”

Amelia glanced at Landon. If I say it was Landon, won’t Aaron think I’m making it up? Or worse, that I’m the culprit?

Landon, listening closely through the speakerphone, gave a calm, firm command in her mind. "Tell him you noticed something suspicious but didn’t know who else to trust."

Following his instructions, Amelia replied smoothly, “Mr. Hall, I noticed something suspicious about the accident.”

Aaron’s voice hardened with skepticism. “Suspicious how? What exactly did you notice?”

Internally, Amelia grumbled. Why is Landon’s assistant so nosy! Does he question everything like this?

Landon’s steady voice filled her mind again, calm but laced with cold precision. "The brakes were tampered with. Kenneth did it."

Amelia exhaled in relief, thankful for the specific direction. “Mr. Hall,” she said, her tone firm now, “the brakes were tampered with. Kenneth was behind it. Please look into it immediately."

"How exactly did you know that?” Aaron asked Amelia with a grave expression.

Only a handful of people could get near Landon’s car, so uncovering the culprit wouldn’t be difficult. What puzzled him was how Amelia had discovered the malfunction.

Doubt flickered in Aaron’s eyes. He began to wonder if she might be involved in this whole incident, questioning whether he and Gloria had unknowingly let trouble into their lives.

“Uh…” Amelia swayed slightly, her head still dizzy, unable to provide an answer.

Landon was inwardly exasperated at her apparent lack of tact. He had meant for her to summarize his instructions, not recite them word for word. He thought it was no wonder Aaron was suspicious; anyone with half a brain would be.

Landon’s voice sounded in her mind, calm yet commanding. "Tell him I spoke to you just now and explained it myself. And remind him not to disclose that I’m showing signs of waking up."

Realizing she was now a suspect, Amelia took extra care with her words this time. “He spoke to me earlier today and told me the truth.”

“What? Mr. Kingsley woke up?” Aaron’s initial skepticism gave way to sheer delight.

“Not exactly,” Amelia clarified, keeping her tone measured. “He just said a few things and then lost consciousness again. Please don’t mention this to anyone else yet—it might only bring more trouble."

“Understood. I’ll follow your lead and keep it to myself,” Aaron answered, his spirits lifted.

He couldn’t help but wonder if this marriage was some kind of divine blessing for Landon. He figured that if Landon could manage to speak, even occasionally, then perhaps a full recovery wasn’t far off. And with that, the future of Kingsley Group might just be secured.

Finally done with the conversation, Amelia set down her phone, the lingering effects of the alcohol pulling her into a daze. She collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

Beside her, Landon listened to her soft, slightly tipsy breaths, the faint scent of wine lingering in the air. It stirred something restless within him, making sleep an impossible feat.

As if her unconscious state wasn’t enough of a torment, Amelia kept inching closer to him in her sleep, burrowing against him like a stubborn kitten seeking warmth. Her small hands occasionally grazed his chest or clutched at his shirt, leaving him caught between exasperation and something else entirely.

It was a long, restless night for Landon, one that seemed to stretch into eternity. By the time sleep finally claimed him, he couldn’t even recall how he managed to drift off.

When the first rays of dawn filtered into the room, Amelia slowly opened her eyes. The soft golden light illuminated the space, casting a gentle glow over the silk sheets and polished furnishings. Everything seemed serene—until she realized she was nestled in Landon’s arms.

Her heart leaped into her throat. “Oh my goodness,” she gasped, scrambling to disentangle herself.

Amelia bolted from the bed, rushing into the adjoining bathroom. She stared into the mirror, her breath hitching at the sight before her. Her face was flushed with a rosy hue, her eyes bright, and her lips naturally full. The lingering warmth on her cheeks only made her look even more radiant.

“So… I really am beautiful,” she murmured, momentarily stunned by her reflection.

Memories of her past life surged forward, unbidden. After she lost her left breast, the Edwards family had never let her forget her so-called "flaws."

Zachary had always assured her it didn’t matter to him, but his offhanded remarks and subtle jabs told a different story.

Over time, his emotional manipulation eroded Amelia’s self-esteem, making her feel unworthy and incomplete, leaving her with a deep sense of guilt as though she had dragged him down in some way.

She had spiraled into self-doubt, isolating herself from social events and retreating from the world. The poised and elegant debutante she once was had faded into a shadow of her former self.

After the divorce, Amelia had sunk even lower, losing all will to fight or even live. She had forgotten the beauty she once possessed, forgotten that she had once been a gorgeous woman admired by all.

Looking at herself now, it was as if a part of that lost self was staring back at her. “Amelia, pull yourself together," she whispered to her reflection, determination hardening in her eyes. "Make them pay for everything they’ve done to you.”

Taking a deep breath, Amelia began her morning routine. She washed up quickly, then changed into fresh clothes, ready to meet the lawyer William Smith, the one Debra had arranged for before her passing.

Just as she finished adjusting her outfit, Gloria stepped into the room, perfectly timing her entrance. “Amy, did you wash Landon’s face yet?” she asked, her voice brimming with casual authority.

Amelia froze. She had completely forgotten.

“Landon is particular about cleanliness. He needs his face washed every morning and evening,” Gloria added as she moved toward the bed, reaching out to feel it. The residual warmth told her everything she needed to know—Amelia had obediently slept beside him.

Satisfied, Gloria beamed. To her, Amelia was a sweet, modest girl. She felt that there was no need to rush her. ‘For now, getting them physically close is enough. When the time is right, they’ll naturally take the next step and actually sleep together.’

With a practiced ease, Gloria walked to the window, pulling the curtains open to let the morning light flood the room. Then, with every intention of checking on Landon, she turned back and began tugging at the edge of the blanket.

“Wait.” Amelia darted forward, planting her hands firmly on the covers.

“What?” Gloria looked at her, puzzled.

Blushing furiously, Amelia stammered, “I—I haven’t dressed him yet…”

There was a beat of silence as Gloria processed her words. ‘Not dressed yet? Then that means last night they…!’

The realization hit Gloria like a lightning bolt. Her face lit up with unrestrained joy, misinterpreting the situation entirely. Retracting her hands, she chuckled knowingly, “Oh, I see. Well then, go ahead and dress him first. I’ll head downstairs—my apple pie is just about ready."

Throwing Amelia a sly, conspiratorial smile, Gloria sauntered out of the room.

Amelia sighed heavily, knowing full well what Gloria was assuming. There was no way to explain. The words stuck in her throat, tangled with the weight of everything unspoken between them.

Turning back to the bed, she gingerly lifted the blanket to start dressing Landon. But before she could make any real progress, the door opened again, and a voice cut through the air.

“Landon, you…” The words trailed off, drowned by shock.

Frozen in the doorway stood a man of polished appearance—elegant, refined, but currently wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Wesley stared at the scene before him, his mind struggling to process what he saw.

He bellowed internally, ‘Is this real? Landon, the man I look up to the most, not only is he reduced to a vegetative state, but he slept with a girl while he was in a coma? No, impossible, Landon has been single for twenty-seven years!'

Amelia, still struggling with Landon’s weight, assumed the newcomer was a bodyguard who worked for the Kingsley family. Without looking up, she gestured to him. “Please come help me.”

Wesley’s composure cracked. His voice quivered with suppressed rage. “You… you’re Amelia Edwards? The Amelia Edwards who’s engaged to Zachary?”

Inside, he grumbled, ‘A married woman, sleeping with Landon. Unbelievable. It’s a good thing I checked Amelia’s background before my flight today, or I might have actually treated her as my best friend’s wife.’

“Yes, that’s me,” Amelia replied, furrowing her brows as she met his gaze head-on. “And you are?”

Fury simmered in Wesley’s gaze as he ground out each word with precision. “Wesley. Wesley Harrington.” His tone was ice-cold, his normally gentle demeanor hardened by disbelief and anger.