Chapter 2 - The Man Who Heard Every Secret
After the fake doctor was taken away, Aldaine Manor became quieter than ever.
Too quiet.
Imara stood beside Cyrus’s bed, staring at the man who had not moved for seven months.
The police had arrived.
The syringe had been collected.
The hospital administration had confirmed one terrifying truth:
There was no record of Dr. Loren being assigned to Cyrus Aldaine.
He was not a visiting specialist.
He was not part of the medical team.
He had simply walked into the room.
And almost injected a billionaire who controlled a multi-billion-dollar empire.
Houston stood near the door with his arms crossed.
“I knew something was wrong with that guy.”
Imara looked at him.
“You knew?”
Houston frowned.
“I didn’t know exactly what. But real doctors don’t look at a patient like they’re checking the value of an object.”
Dix leaned against the wall.
“He wasn’t interested in helping Mr. Aldaine.”
His eyes moved toward Cyrus.
“He was waiting for something.”
Imara looked at the unconscious billionaire.
She knew exactly what they were all thinking.
Someone wanted Cyrus gone.
But why?
The answer was obvious.
Money.
Power.
Control.
And there was only one person who benefited the most if Cyrus Aldaine never woke up.
Prentice Aldaine.
---
The next morning, Prentice arrived at the manor.
He entered the medical room wearing a dark suit, his expression carefully controlled.
“Miss Quill.”
Imara turned.
“Mr. Aldaine.”
His eyes moved toward the police report sitting on the table.
“I heard there was an incident.”
“There was an attempted unauthorized injection.”
Prentice remained silent.
Then:
“Was Cyrus harmed?”
“No.”
“Good.”
That was his first reaction.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Not concern.
Just relief.
Imara noticed.
“So you’re not wondering who tried to do it?”
Prentice looked at her.
“I assume the authorities will investigate.”
“That’s all?”
“What else should I do?”
She held his gaze.
“You’re his brother.”
A small smile appeared on Prentice’s face.
“You seem to forget something, Miss Quill.”
“What?”
“My brother has been unconscious for seven months.”
His voice lowered.
“The doctors have given their opinions.”
Imara’s expression hardened.
“Doctors can be wrong.”
The room went silent.
Prentice looked at her carefully.
Almost suspiciously.
“You believe Cyrus can recover?”
“I believe he’s aware.”
“That is a dangerous belief.”
“For who?”
Prentice stepped closer.
Not threatening.
Not aggressive.
Just enough to remind her who had power in the room.
“For someone who has worked here three months, you are very attached to a patient who cannot speak.”
Imara did not look away.
“For someone who claims to care about his brother, you seem very comfortable with him staying silent.”
The temperature in the room changed.
Houston and Dix immediately noticed.
Prentice smiled.
But there was no warmth behind it.
“Be careful, Miss Quill.”
“About what?”
“Sometimes people who look for secrets discover things they wish they never knew.”
Then he walked away.
---
That night, Imara sat beside Cyrus’s bed.
She turned off the television.
The room became peaceful.
Then she whispered:
“I think your brother is hiding something.”
Nothing.
No movement.
No reaction.
She continued.
“I don’t know what happened at that charity gala.”
Silence.
“But I know you didn’t just collapse.”
The monitor beside him continued.
Heart rate: 62.
Stable.
Imara looked at the screen.
Then she remembered something.
A few weeks earlier.
The first time she noticed.
---
She had been reading shipping news.
A routine she started because Cyrus’s heart rate always changed slightly when she discussed his company.
“Aldaine Maritime announced a new partnership today…”
She paused.
The monitor changed.
62.
Then 68.
Then 75.
Imara stopped reading.
She looked at Cyrus.
“Mr. Aldaine?”
Nothing.
She waited.
Then she continued.
“The agreement gives temporary control of northern shipping routes to executive leadership…”
The heart monitor climbed again.
88.
Imara’s eyes narrowed.
That was not random.
A patient in a vegetative state did not react consistently to specific business information.
She grabbed her notebook.
She wrote everything down.
Date.
Time.
Trigger.
Reaction.
She began testing.
News about weather.
No reaction.
Music.
Small reaction.
Company decisions.
Strong reaction.
Then one day she said something she never expected to say.
“Mr. Aldaine…”
She leaned closer.
“I think someone inside your family wants you to stay here.”
For eleven seconds…
His breathing changed.
Controlled.
Intentional.
Imara froze.
She watched him.
“You heard me.”
No response.
But she knew.
She knew.
---
Now, after the attempted injection, she understood something else.
Cyrus was not just trapped.
He was trapped while people around him made plans.
People talked freely.
Because they believed he couldn't hear.
They discussed money.
The company.
The future.
And Cyrus heard every word.
---
The next morning, Imara made a decision.
She would stop treating Cyrus like a patient.
She would start treating him like a witness.
She placed her chair beside him.
“Mr. Aldaine.”
A pause.
“If you can hear me…”
She looked toward the door.
“If you know who did this…”
Another pause.
“Give me something.”
Nothing happened.
For several seconds.
Then—
His left finger moved.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Imara stopped breathing.
Because this time...
She was watching.
And this time...
May you like
She knew it was intentional.
---
