In the hospital room.
Tanya sat quietly on the bed as several doctors and nurses busily examined her.
Tanya had pressed the bedside button herself to notify the nurses’ station that she was awake.
Being in a coma for five years was more than enough!
Now, Tanya Sinclair had awakened.
Divorce, she was determined to get!
Her youth could be fed to the dogs, but she would reclaim her property, her career... most importantly, her two children—no way would she let the scoundrel have them!
Tanya’s ultimate goal was to make Vincent Hawthorne lose custody and leave barehanded!
But having a five-year blank slate, she still needed so ti to prepare for the divorce...
Out of the corner of her eye, Tanya glanced outside the door and saw the hem of Vincent’s suit.
The ti had co!
"Dr. Thorne, how are my eyes?" Tanya asked frantically, "Why can’t I see anything as soon as I wake up?"
Vincent Hawthorne, who had just pushed open the door, heard this and walked to the bedside with a frown, worry evident on his face.
"Tanya." He called her softly.
Tanya felt nauseated just hearing it.
"Vincent, you’re finally here." She suppressed her disgust, her eyes lifeless like a blind person, as she groped to fall into Vincent’s arms.
She could sll the woman’s perfu lingering on him.
"Vincent, I’m so scared; I can’t see you..."
Holding her, Vincent comforted her gently, "Don’t be afraid, I’m here. No matter how much it costs, I’ll make sure you’re cured!"
Dr. Thorne said, "Mr. Hawthorne, don’t worry too much. Mrs. Hawthorne’s eyes don’t have major problems, maybe she’s been in a coma for too long and her optic nerves haven’t fully recovered..."
Vincent pressed him, "How long until she fully recovers?"
Dr. Thorne looked embarrassed, unable to guarantee.
"The recovery ti depends on the patient. It could be as short as two to three months, but it’s uncertain if it takes longer."
Tanya leaned weakly in Vincent’s arms, eyes brimming with endless coldness.
She could clearly feel the tension in Vincent’s body relax.
A blind person with an indefinite recovery ti was enough to lower Vincent’s guard.
Tanya seized the chance to make a request, "Vincent, I don’t want to stay in the hospital anymore; I want to go ho. When my eyes get better, I want to see you and our children first thing."
Dr. Thorne also suggested, "Mr. Hawthorne, letting Mrs. Hawthorne return to a familiar environnt would be more conducive to her eye recovery."
Vincent considered for a couple of seconds and finally agreed to discharge Tanya and take her ho now.
Her legs were weak, still unable to walk, so Vincent borrowed a wheelchair from the hospital and wheeled her downstairs.
Tanya recalled the sight of him holding Cindy Lynn earlier and suddenly found it laughable.
He could hold other won but was unwilling to hold her.
In the elevator, facing a mirror, Tanya examined Vincent behind her through her sunglasses.
Five years had passed, yet he remained handso, with an added touch of mature charm.
But she had grown pitifully thin, as if all her vitality had been drained.
Indeed, in this relationship, Vincent was the one who had bled her dry...
Downstairs, Tanya discreetly scanned around; Cindy and the two children were not there; they must have left earlier.
Vincent pushed Tanya to the front passenger seat, opened the door, and the first thing Tanya noticed was the Chanel lipstick on the seat.
Vincent glanced at Tanya, quietly picked up the lipstick, pocketed it silently, and then nonchalantly helped Tanya into the front passenger seat.
"Vincent," Tanya asked him softly, "During those five years of my coma, did any other woman sit in this passenger seat?"
"Of course not." Vincent denied it flatly. After a brief pause, he half-jokingly said, "Everyone in Norgale knows my wife, Tanya Sinclair, is notoriously fierce. She once stord into a kidnapper’s den with a gun."
Fierce?
That’s right, shortly after her wedding to Vincent, he was kidnapped, and the police were making slow progress, driving Tanya nearly insane with worry. She used all her connections and resources to track him down.
She brought a suitcase full of money and a gun, risking her life to trade for his.
Vincent once swore he would never betray her.
The red light up ahead turned on, and the car ca to a steady stop behind the crosswalk.
Vincent suddenly turned to look at her.
"Tanya, what was it like being in a coma for those five years?"
Tanya looked indifferently at Vincent through her sunglasses as he reached out to hold her hand.
"I only felt like I had a long dream; it was all dark, with no sound, no light... very terrifying."
Vincent heard the answer he wanted, his expression relaxing, and he patted the back of her hand.
"It’s all over, Tanya; we’re going ho now."
Tanya tugged at the corners of her mouth, "Yes, it’s all over."
Vincent Hawthorne, we are also over.
Next, it’s ti to settle the score!
The green light turned on, Vincent stepped on the gas, and the car advanced smoothly. A black Maybach zood past, and as it brushed by, Tanya’s sunglasses-clad face flickered across the tinted window of the Maybach’s backseat.
Inside the car, the man with carved-like features hid in the shadows, exuding a coldness that warned others to stay away, until Tanya’s face slipped from his sight, his pupils suddenly constricted.
He lowered the car window, his gaze chasing outside.
"Mr. Pierce, what happened?" Janne Hayes, the assistant in the passenger seat, turned back to inquire.
He had never seen the boss so uncharacteristically.
"Nothing..."
The Bentley drove away, shrinking into an invisible dot.
Declan Pierce slowly retracted his gaze, and in the near distance, the Zenith Group Tower’s sign stood magnificently under the night sky.
His deep eyes squinted slightly.
Whatever crossed his mind, a mocking and sarcastic smile curled up on his sharp and handso lips.
"Tanya Sinclair," he murmured the three words as though caressing them, his tone cool as water yet hiding a lingering depth. He slowly said, "Is it worth it?"
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