Chapter 6
ALISTAIR
The first day back at work after being bedridden for over a month should've felt overwhelming, but I didn't give myself the luxury of hesitation.
My doctor had insisted I rest for at least three more days, claiming my body still hadn't fully recovered.
But once I decide, no one can stop me. Rest was something I could not afford.
The Montgomery Group had run without me for that month, yes—but I hated the thought of being absent.
In my world, one small misstep could be an opening for someone else to crawl into what's mine.
I sat behind my desk, the familiar weight of the leather chair grounding me. The city skyline stretched beyond the tall glass windows of my office.
After more than a month of unconsciousness, I finally felt like myself again.
Evan Price, my chief executive assistant, stood across from my desk, delivering reports on the activities from the past month.
We had been at it for two hours, and were still far from finished.
Evan had been with me for five years—sharp, discreet, loyal in the ways that mattered.
He didn't waste words unless necessary, which was why the way he kept adjusting his tie told me I wasn't going to like what he had to say next.
"Spill it," I ordered.
"Sir," he began carefully, "while you were... away, Mr. Markus stepped in to handle operations. On paper, things remain stable. The board has no complaints. But there are concerns that need to be considered carefully."
Of course there were. Markus had always been skilled at showing a polished face while keeping his hands dirty in the shadows.
I motioned for him to continue.
He placed a folder on my desk, opening it with deliberate care. Inside were clipped reports, bank transfers, travel logs.
"In the last month, Markus concentrated on the overseas branches—Singapore, Zurich, and Dubai, primarily. He tightened control over the managers there, shifted capital aggressively. Nothing overtly illegal, but the moves were ambitious. He's consolidating influence outside the mainland."
I skimmed through the documents one by one, my brows knitting tightly.
He wasn't wrong. I'd known for years that Markus had been moving secretly behind my back. I'd been watching him, but the data I'd gathered was never enough to pin him down.
Now he'd made another big move—while I was in a coma. And this time, he targeted the overseas markets where fewer eyes watched.
He'd grown some guts from my absence.
Well, the best way to catch a mouse is to put the bait in the right place.
"I assume you didn't bring me this just to tell me he's competent," I said dryly.
Evan hesitated before flipping to the next set of documents. "No, sir. This is what I thought you should know."
The header caught my eye immediately: Private Meeting—with Antonio Vitale.
I lifted my gaze. "Vitale?"
"Yes. Markus arranged a private dinner with him in Milan two weeks ago. There are no official records, but one of our sources confirmed their meeting."
I leaned back, processing. Antonio Vitale—on the surface, a respected Italian businessman with shipping and real estate empires. But rumors had always followed him. Many believed he was the leader of a powerful Mafia organization.
Men like Vitale didn't make deals unless there was leverage. And Markus had gone to him voluntarily.
"What was discussed?" I asked.
"No one knows, sir. The meeting was behind closed doors. The staff present were dismissed before business began. They left together after two hours."
My jaw tightened.
Markus playing with fire was nothing new. But Vitale wasn't just fire—he was wildfire. Aligning with him meant one of two things: either Markus was desperate or he was reaching higher than he'd ever dared before.
Fool.
"Go on."
Evan glanced down at his notes, then back at me, his expression tight.
"Vitale made a trip here last week for business matters. But he was ambushed, just a while ago."
That made me sit forward. "Ambushed?"
"Yes, sir. The attack wasn't reported in any official press to avoid stirring further chaos. Our sources intercepted chatter from the Italian police and private security networks. It was covered up quickly."
I narrowed my eyes. "Did he survive?"
Evan nodded. "He was brought to Northgate Hospital. And... it was Madam who operated on him. She managed to save his life."
Silence stretched across the room.
If Evan hadn't mentioned her, I would've forgotten I was actually tied to her until now.
I hadn't foreseen this — that Grandma would make such a move behind my back, and even choose the last person I wanted to associate with. I still had to settle this with her.
I leaned back in my chair, letting the leather carry the weight pressing on my shoulders.
Reports and memos lay scattered across the desk, but none of it mattered. My mind drifted for a fraction of a second — to last night, to the faint memory of that woman asleep on the couch.
Isla... She had been so still, so calm, so impossibly graceful that, for a brief moment, I almost felt... something while looking at her.
Almost.
I shook the thought off. She was my wife only on paper, nothing more. I had no use for distractions — especially not one I hadn't chosen.
Evan's voice cut through the silence, summarizing more reports, but I waved him away without looking.
"Dismissed," I said, my tone final.
As he bowed slightly and retreated, I spoke again.
"Is there any progress on the man involved in my accident?" I asked, my tone cold and measured.
The moment I woke up, Evan immediately reported that they had seized the man who sabotaged my car. He had agreed to cooperate, but a few days later, he suffered a severe accident and fell into a coma.
Evan had placed him in a secure recovery facility — known only to us — waiting for the day I regained consciousness.
That man could very well be the key to exposing and eliminating the pests lurking around me.
"He's stable for now, but the doctor said it's a fifty-fifty chance he survives. If he wakes, it'll be nothing short of a miracle."
I leaned back, steepling my fingers again, the gears in my mind already turning.
If he survives, everything changes... and the game I've been forced to play could finally swing in my favor.
For a long moment, I sat there in silence, eyes tracing the city skyline beyond my windows. The city moved on, business went on, but my own plans remained undisturbed.
Nothing could shake that.
Nothing... except the knock at my office door.
"Sir," my secretary's measured voice rang out as she poked her head in. "There's a visitor. She insists on seeing you immediately."
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. Who had the audacity to disturb me this early?
"Send her in," I said flatly.
The door opened, and the moment I saw her, the air seemed to thin.
That face—etched into every mistake I swore I'd never repeat. The one person I buried in the past, now standing at my door.
