The Comatose Billionaire's Secret Genius Bride

The only light in the room came from a small floor lamp in the corner. It cast long, distorted shadows across the walls. Arletta held her breath. She pinched the longest silver needle between her fingers and slowly pushed it into the base of Josue's cervical spine. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and stung her eye. This kind of high-precision nerve block release drained every ounce of her physical energy. One millimeter off, and she could paralyze him forever. She felt the tissue yield. The blockage was clear. Arletta quickly pulled the needle out and stared at Josue's chest. The heart monitor beeped. The green line jumped from a sluggish sixty beats per minute to a strong, steady eighty-five. Arletta dropped the needle onto the sterile tray. She grabbed Josue's large, cold hand and pressed her thumb against his wrist to feel his pulse. Right then, Josue's stiff index finger twitched. It was a microscopic movement, but the rough pad of his finger scraped against the center of her palm. Arletta's heart slammed against her ribs. Her pupils dilated. It was the undeniable proof of neural pathway reconstruction. She grabbed her notebook to write down the time, but a wave of dizziness hit her. The room spun. She gripped the edge of the mattress, her knees shaking from exhaustion. She couldn't keep her eyes open. She dragged herself over to the small, single sofa in the corner of the room. She collapsed onto the cushions, pulling a thin fleece blanket up to her chin. Within seconds, the exhaustion pulled her under. It was past midnight when a faint scratching sound broke the dead silence of the estate. The brass doorknob of the hospital room turned. The metal ground together with a slow, agonizing squeak. Arletta snapped awake. Her eyes opened in the pitch black. Her muscles locked tight, instantly shifting into the hyper-aware state of a hunted animal. The door cracked open. The heavy, sour stench of bourbon flooded the room. Kyler squeezed through the gap, his body swaying heavily. He had lost face during the day. Now, fueled by liquid courage, he was back to take his anger out on the helpless country girl. He stumbled blindly toward the sofa, his breathing loud and wet. Arletta kept her eyes shut. She didn't move her body, but her right hand slid silently under the blanket. Her fingers wrapped around a specialized, ultra-thin nerve-blocking needle in her kit-the one used for deep tissue anesthesia. Kyler lunged. He threw his heavy body onto the sofa, his hands clawing wildly at the collar of her shirt. Arletta let out a piercing, terrified scream. She twisted her hips and slid out from under him like water. Kyler grabbed empty air. His momentum carried him forward, and his chest slammed hard into the wooden armrest of the sofa. He grunted in pain, his lower back completely exposed. In the split second they crossed paths, Arletta swiftly inserted the needle into a key pressure point in his lower back, causing immediate but temporary paralysis. She yanked it out before he could even register the prick. Kyler's lower half died instantly. His legs turned to jelly. He slid off the sofa and collapsed onto the rug in a heavy, useless heap. He couldn't move a single muscle below his waist. Arletta scrambled across the floor on her hands and knees. She slammed her palm against the red panic button on the wall. A deafening siren ripped through the east wing. The estate's security system flared to life, bathing the room in flashing strobe lights. Kyler realized his legs were gone. Panic seized his throat. He thought he was paralyzed for life. He opened his mouth and let out a high-pitched, hysterical wail like a slaughtered pig. The door burst open. Two armed security guards and Evelyn charged into the room. The overhead lights flicked on, blindingly bright. They saw Kyler, a sobbing, paralyzed mess on the floor. And in the corner, Arletta was curled into a tight ball, her clothes rumpled, her hands covering her face as she shook uncontrollably. "He-he was drunk!" Arletta wailed, her voice cracking. "He broke in! He said he was going to kill me!" The guards looked at each other, completely bewildered. They grabbed Kyler by the arms and dragged his dead weight out of the room. Evelyn stood in the doorway, her face pale and tight. She knew this couldn't be covered up. The old man was going to hear about this.