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Falling Into My Husband's Arms

Falling Into My Husband's Arms

I woke up from emergency surgery to repair a torn retina, completely blind and alone. The first phone call I received wasn't one of concern. It was my mother, furious that I had embarrassed our family by missing a business brunch. Her next order was chilling. "Go to your husband. Get pregnant. A Hartman heir is the only thing that will secure our trust fund." My husband, Jakobe Hartman, is a man who views our marriage as a corporate merger. Our hundred-page prenup has a clause that strictly forbids any emotional entanglement. He was the last person I wanted to see me so helpless. But then I stumbled blindly out of my room and crashed right into him. He found me weak and pathetic. He overheard my mother's abusive voicemail. He even listened in silence as I spun pathetic lies on the phone, pretending he was a doting husband just to get her off my back. I expected him to walk away in disgust. Instead, he moved me to the penthouse suite and sent me home in an armored car. I dismissed it as a cold calculation to protect his public image. I thought I was finally safe in my own apartment. I had no idea he was watching me on a live security feed, just moments after ordering the hostile takeover of my family's entire company.
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Chapter 2

In the two hours since the phone call, the lingering panic in Audra’s chest had hardened into a cold, heavy knot. Her throat was completely parched, but she refused to press the call button again. She had to learn how to survive in this darkness. Throwing the thin hospital blanket off her legs, she let her bare feet touch the freezing linoleum floor. She slid her toes around, blindly searching for the grip socks the clinic provided. Once she pulled them on, she didn't stand up right away. She sat on the edge of the mattress, her hands gripping the sheets, as her mind dragged her back to the lawyer's office three months ago. The air conditioning in the Manhattan financial district high-rise had been freezing. Jakobe Hartman had sat across from her, a man without a single wrinkle on his custom-tailored dark charcoal suit, nor a single ounce of warmth in his dark eyes. He had slid the massive prenuptial agreement across the polished mahogany table. It was a business acquisition. He was buying her public image, her social compliance, and her family's name. There was one specific addendum that burned in her memory: Both parties are strictly prohibited from engaging in non-essential emotional attachments during the term of this marriage. Audra's lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. Her mother actually expected her to seduce a man who calculated risk for a living, a man who viewed human emotion as a liability. Shaking her head, she forced Jakobe's sharp jawline and cold stare out of her brain. When Audra finally stood, she held both arms straight out in front of her, like a toddler learning how to walk. She shuffled her feet forward, aiming for where she thought the bathroom was. Suddenly, her kneecap slammed directly into the sharp metal corner of the bedside table. "Ah!" A blinding flash of pain shot up her thigh, and she doubled over instantly. Clamping her mouth shut, refusing to make another sound, she rubbed her bruised knee violently as cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Through the thin wall of her room, the muffled sound of a television news broadcast drifted in from the neighboring suite. The anchor's overly enthusiastic voice mentioned the Mcgowan family. "...Gayle Mcgowan stunned the crowd at the charity gala last night. Truly the shining star of the family..." Audra's heart squeezed painfully. It was a classic PR stunt. Gayle always used these events to step on Audra's neck and prove her worth to the board. Audra realized she couldn't just hide in this room and feel sorry for herself. She had to get her control back. Reaching her hand out again, she finally felt the cool wooden frame of the bathroom door. She guided herself to the sink, turned the cold water handle, and splashed the freezing water directly onto her lower face. Water dripped down her chin and soaked the collar of her hospital gown. She grabbed a towel and scrubbed her skin dry. The air in the room felt too thick. She needed to get out. She needed to test how well she could move. Walking back to the closet area, she felt around until her fingers brushed against the folded white cane the nurse had left for her. The metal felt foreign and heavy in her palm. Audra took a deep breath and snapped the cane open. She tapped the plastic tip against the floor. Tap. Tap. She opened the door to her room and stepped out. The smell of industrial bleach and rubbing alcohol in the hallway was overwhelming. Pressing her shoulder lightly against the wall, she swept the cane back and forth against the baseboards, taking agonizingly slow steps. A medical assistant walked past her. "Do you need a hand, miss?" "No, thank you. I am perfectly fine," Audra replied, her tone polite but entirely closed off. She hated being treated like a broken thing, especially here, in a place that reeked of elite Manhattan privilege. Up ahead, the sharp ding of the elevator doors opening echoed down the hall. Audra didn't pay it any mind. She kept her head down, focusing entirely on the feedback from the cane as she tried to navigate around a large potted plant. She had absolutely no idea that the man stepping out of the elevator was the exact cold-blooded husband she had just been thinking about.

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