The Comatose Billionaire's Secret Genius Bride

The estate was dead silent. It was 2:00 AM. Arletta stood over Josue's bed. She had just finished a grueling three-hour session of deep cranial nerve stimulation. Her muscles ached, and her wrists felt like they were filled with lead. She pulled the final silver needle from his scalp and dropped it into the sterilization fluid. Josue looked different. The grayish pallor of his skin was gone, replaced by a faint, healthy flush. His chest rose and fell in deep, rhythmic breaths. Arletta stumbled to the bathroom. She turned on the cold tap and splashed water on her face, trying to shock her brain awake. She walked back to the bed and pulled a heavy wooden chair close to the mattress. She grabbed her pen to log his heart rate. But her body had reached its limit. Her vision blurred. Her head bobbed forward, heavy and uncontrollable. Arletta gave up. She folded her arms on the edge of the mattress and rested her forehead against her sleeves. Within seconds, she was in a deep, dreamless sleep. Her right hand rested limply on the white sheets, just a few inches away from Josue's fingers. At 3:00 AM, the brainwave monitor next to the bed spiked. The jagged green lines danced wildly across the black screen. Deep in the dark abyss of his coma, Josue's subconscious was fighting. He was drowning, reaching out for an anchor. His right index finger twitched. Then his middle finger. Slowly, agonizingly, his hand slid across the sheets. Inch by inch, he moved toward the warmth radiating from Arletta's skin. His large, calloused palm slid over the back of her hand. The moment he felt her, his fingers clamped down. He gripped her hand with the terrifying, desperate strength of a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. The morning sun broke through the curtains, casting a golden glow over their joined hands. The door clicked open. Evelyn walked in, balancing a silver breakfast tray on one hand. She saw Arletta asleep on the bed and opened her mouth to scold her for being lazy. Then Evelyn's eyes dropped to their hands. Her breath hitched. The silver tray slipped from her fingers. It hit the floor with a deafening crash. The porcelain coffee cup shattered, sending hot brown liquid splashing across the rug. The noise jolted Arletta awake. She gasped, her head snapping up. She was disoriented, her eyes wide. She tried to pull her hand back to rub her eyes, but she couldn't move. Her right hand was locked in a vice grip. Arletta looked down. Her heart skipped a beat. Josue's fingers were wrapped around hers, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. Evelyn spun around and ran out of the room. "He moved! He grabbed her!" she screamed down the hallway, her strict composure completely shattered. Less than five minutes later, Cornelius rushed into the room. He was leaning heavily on his cane, his chest heaving. Three private concierge doctors trailed right behind him. Cornelius stared at their hands. His hands shook so badly his cane rattled against the floorboards. "Check him!" Cornelius ordered. One of the doctors stepped forward. He grabbed Josue's wrist and tried to pry his fingers off Arletta's hand. The second the doctor applied pressure, the heart monitor began to beep rapidly. Josue's grip tightened even more, crushing Arletta's bones. "Stop!" Cornelius roared. "You're distressing him! Leave them alone!" The doctor backed away, his hands raised in surrender. Cornelius looked at Arletta. The disgust and pity he usually held for her were gone. He looked at her like she was the most valuable asset in his empire. Arletta stayed bent over the bed, her hand trapped in Josue's. She kept her face perfectly blank, but inside, she let out a long exhale. Phase one was complete.