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Married To The Comatose Tech Emperor Novel Cover

Married To The Comatose Tech Emperor

Gina was locked in Blackwood Asylum for five years, framed as a violent lunatic by her own wealthy family. Her brother suddenly dragged her out, but not to save her. He forced her into an arranged marriage with Kerr Brooks, the billionaire emperor of New York, just to save the Rollins family's failing company. Back at the estate, her parents treated her like a biohazard. They showered her adopted sister, Hailie, with love and luxury, while forcing Gina into a freezing servant's room. They threw a brutal prenuptial agreement at her face and threatened to leak a deepfake scandal video to the press if she didn't play the perfect bride. To ensure Gina's absolute ruin, Hailie even ordered a maid to spike her dinner with a massive dose of LSD. They were ruthlessly sacrificing her to a man who was secretly in a deep, unresponsive coma. "She is just a tool, Hailie. Do not waste your pity on a broken thing." Her mother's cold words echoed in the foyer. They looked at Gina's faded jumpsuit and vacant eyes, fully believing she was a heavily sedated pawn they could easily manipulate and discard. But they didn't know Gina was a master hacker, a lethal underground surgeon, and the secret owner of the world's top luxury brand. She neutralized the poison in seconds and slipped into her comatose fiancé's heavily guarded ICU. Disabling the secret neuro-suppressants keeping him asleep, Gina smiled in the dark. If they wanted her to marry a corpse, she would use his empire to bury them all alive.
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Chapter 7

The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed 2:00 AM.

Outside, the rain slammed against the windows in heavy, violent sheets.

Thunder shook the floorboards of the Rollins estate.

Trisha crept down the second-floor hallway.

She held a heavy brass master key in her sweaty palm.

Hailie had ordered her to check on Gina.

Hailie wanted a video of Gina tearing her own hair out in a drug-induced panic.

Trisha stopped in front of Gina.

Her hand trembled so badly the key scratched against the metal plate before sliding into the lock.

She turned the key.

A soft click echoed in the dark.

Trisha pushed the door open.

The room was pitch black.

A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the space for a fraction of a second.

Trisha raised her phone.

She hit the record button.

The red light blinked in the darkness.

She took a step inside.

The bed was empty.

The blankets were thrown onto the floor.

Suddenly, a sound came from the corner of the ceiling.

It was a long, rattling sigh.

It sounded like a woman trying to breathe through a crushed windpipe.

Trisha.

The hair on her arms stood straight up.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She whipped her phone around, trying to use the screen light to see.

A sensor clicked.

The overhead bulb flared to life.

It did not glow yellow.

It emitted a sickly, flickering, ice-blue light.

Trisha looked toward the bathroom.

Through the frosted glass door, she saw a silhouette.

It was a woman standing with her back to the door.

She wore a white uniform.

A massive, dark stain covered the entire back of the dress.

Trisha recognized the cut of the collar.

It was Aine.

The speaker in the corner crackled.

The sound of heavy, wet drops hitting marble played on a loop.

Then, the sickening crunch of bone snapping.

Trisha.

Her throat closed up.

She tried to scream, but only a wet, choking sound came out.

Her legs turned to jelly.

She could not move backward.

The bathroom door slowly creaked open.

Gina stepped out.

Her hair hung over her face in wet, tangled clumps.

Her skin was painted a ghastly, dead white with a thick, dried paste she had quickly mixed from a stolen tube of toothpaste and a crushed sliver of white hotel soap.

She dragged her left leg behind her, perfectly mimicking the broken hip Aine suffered in the fall.

Trisha.

Gina.

Her voice was an unnatural, hollow whisper.

She used a precise hypnotic cadence, pitching her voice to vibrate in Trisha.

"Why did you wipe the blood off the stairs, Trisha?"

Gina took a dragging step forward.

"Why didn't you call an ambulance?"

Trisha.

Her mind shattered.

The guilt she had buried for five years exploded under the weight of the drugs she thought were in the room.

She believed she was looking at a ghost.

A massive clap of thunder exploded directly over the house.

Gina lunged forward.

She shoved her face inches from Trisha.

Gina stretched her mouth into a wide, unnatural, horrifying grin.

Trisha let out a blood-curdling shriek.

Her eyes rolled completely back into her head, showing only the whites.

Her bladder released.

A warm stream of urine soaked through her skirt and puddled onto the expensive carpet.

Trisha collapsed.

Her head hit the floor with a dull thud.

She was completely unconscious.

Down the hall, a door slammed open.

Hailie ran out, wearing a silk nightgown.

She heard the scream over the thunder.

She sprinted to Gina.

Lightning flashed.

Hailie saw Trisha lying in a puddle of urine on the floor.

Hailie gasped and covered her mouth.

She looked at the bed.

Gina was curled up in the corner of the mattress.

She wore her normal pajamas.

She had her arms wrapped around her knees, shaking violently, looking terrified of the storm.

Hailie ran into the room.

She kicked Trisha in the ribs.

"Wake up, you idiot!"

Hailie hissed.

Trisha did not move.

Hailie smelled the urine.

She looked at Gina, who was perfectly fine, not hallucinating at all.

A cold wave of pure terror washed over Hailie.

She did not understand what had happened in this room.

She looked at Gina.

In the dark, Gina stopped shaking.

Gina slowly lowered her arms.

She looked at Hailie.

A slow, mocking smile spread across Gina.

Hailie screamed.

She spun around and ran out of the room, her bare feet slipping on the carpet as she fled back to her suite.

Gina swung her legs off the bed.

She stepped over Trisha.

She walked to the window, looked out at the storm, and laughed.

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