His Unwanted Wife's Secret Billionaire Heir

The party finally ended. Haleigh walked away from the ballroom and dragged her exhausted body down the hall.

She pushed open the heavy carved doors of the master bedroom and stepped inside. She turned the lock until it clicked shut.

She walked over to the massive king-sized bed. Fabian Blackburn lay perfectly still in the center of it. The rhythmic hiss of the ventilator was the only sound in the room. Even in a coma, his sharp jawline and broad shoulders radiated a dark, heavy authority.

Haleigh looked away. She walked into the master bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as it would go. She stood under the spray, letting the water scrub away the fake smiles and the lingering disgust of Cleon's face.

She stepped out and dried off. She put on a set of conservative, long-sleeved silk pajamas. She walked back into the bedroom, rubbing a towel through her damp hair.

A faint scraping sound came from the balcony.

Haleigh froze. The hairs on her arms stood straight up. How did he get past the perimeter guards? Then she remembered the rumors that Cleon had been bribing the night-shift security for months to smuggle women in.

The glass door slid open. Cleon stepped into the bedroom. The heavy stench of whiskey rolled off him.

Haleigh backed away instantly. "What are you doing? How dare you climb onto your uncle's balcony."

Cleon loosened his tie. A sickening grin spread across his face. "Come on, Haleigh. That vegetable in the bed can't do anything for you. You must be lonely."

He took a step forward. Haleigh took a step back. Her calves hit the edge of the mattress. She was trapped.

She reached out and grabbed the heavy brass base of the bedside lamp. She held it up like a club.

"Take one more step and I will scream," Haleigh said. Her voice shook, but her grip on the metal was tight. "The guards will be here in seconds."

Cleon laughed. He didn't care. "Play hard to get all you want. You are going to be mine anyway."

He lunged at her.

Haleigh swung the lamp hard. The brass base smashed into Cleon's shoulder.

Cleon cursed loudly. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she dropped the lamp. He shoved her backward. Haleigh fell onto the edge of the mattress. Cleon pinned her down, his hand grabbing her jaw, trying to force his mouth onto hers.

Haleigh gagged. She brought her knee up and slammed it hard into his groin.

Cleon groaned but didn't let go. The heavy mattress bounced violently under their struggle.

Suddenly, the ECG machine next to the bed started beeping rapidly.

A large, freezing cold hand shot out from the blankets. His long, bony fingers, trembling violently but surprisingly strong despite his condition, dug into Cleon's wrist. It wasn't the grip of a healthy man, but the desperate, adrenaline-fueled clamp of a predator refusing to die.

Cleon went entirely rigid. He stopped breathing. He slowly turned his head toward the pillows.

Fabian's eyes were open.

They were pitch black and completely unfocused, but the raw, murderous intent radiating from them was suffocating.

Fabian's fingers tightened. The sound of bones grinding against each other echoed in the quiet room.

Cleon let out a high-pitched scream of pure terror. He ripped his arm away, stumbling backward over his own feet. He didn't even look back. He scrambled out the glass door and vaulted over the balcony railing into the night.

Haleigh collapsed onto the carpet. Her chest heaved as she sucked in desperate breaths of air. She looked up at the bed.

Fabian's hand had fallen limp against the sheets. His eyes were closed again. The monitor beeped steadily.

Haleigh scrambled up and slammed her hand onto the red emergency button on the wall.

Within seconds, the doors burst open. A team of doctors and nurses flooded the room. They checked Fabian's vitals, shined lights in his eyes, and monitored his brain waves.

The lead doctor wiped sweat from his forehead and turned to Haleigh. "It was just a severe muscle spasm. A neurological reflex caused by the bed shaking. He is still in a deep coma, Mrs. Blackburn."

Haleigh pulled her silk robe tighter around her chest. She looked at Fabian's motionless face. The doctor said it was a reflex. But Haleigh remembered the look in those black eyes. That was not a reflex. That was a threat.