Chapter 3 - The Billionaire’s Silent Warning
Imara stared at Cyrus’s hand.
The movement lasted only four seconds.
But it changed everything.
She slowly reached for her notebook.
“Again.”
Nothing.
She waited.
“Mr. Aldaine, if you can hear me…”
She spoke carefully.
“If you want me to know you’re awake, move your finger again.”
The room remained silent.
The machines continued their rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Imara almost convinced herself she imagined it.
Then—
His finger curled.
Once.
Twice.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
Her heart raced.
“Oh my God.”
She stepped back.
Cyrus Aldaine was awake.
Not fully.
Not physically.
But mentally.
He was there.
---
That afternoon, Imara called Houston and Dix.
They stood beside the bed.
Houston looked uncomfortable.
“So you’re saying the boss has been listening?”
“Yes.”
Dix looked at Cyrus.
“For seven months?”
Imara nodded.
“And nobody knew.”
Houston rubbed his face.
“That means he heard everything.”
“Yes.”
The three of them became quiet.
Because they all understood the same thing.
Every conversation.
Every decision.
Every betrayal.
Cyrus heard it.
---
The problem was proving it.
If they told anyone, especially Prentice, Cyrus would lose his only advantage.
So they created a secret system.
Simple questions.
Simple answers.
One finger for yes.
Two fingers for no.
Slowly, they learned.
Cyrus could understand.
He remembered everything.
And the first thing he wanted to know was:
“Who tried to kill me?”
Imara asked carefully.
“Mr. Aldaine… was it someone close to you?”
One finger.
Yes.
“Your family?”
A pause.
Then one finger.
Yes.
Houston looked away.
Dix whispered:
“Prentice.”
Cyrus’s finger moved.
One.
Yes.
---
The next few days changed everything.
Imara discovered the truth about the night Cyrus collapsed.
The charity gala.
The champagne.
The mysterious drug.
The hospital reports.
Someone had slowly poisoned him.
Not enough to kill him.
Enough to make him disappear.
Prentice had taken temporary control of Aldaine Maritime.
But there was something else.
A hidden clause in Cyrus’s company agreement.
If Cyrus recovered mentally and could prove he was conscious, control would immediately return to him.
Prentice didn’t just need Cyrus silent.
He needed him permanently unable to speak.
---
One night, Imara sat beside Cyrus.
“I’m sorry.”
His finger moved.
No.
She smiled slightly.
“You’re saying no?”
One finger.
Yes.
“You don’t want me to apologize?”
Yes.
She looked down.
“Why?”
A long pause.
Then his finger moved.
Slowly.
One.
Imara understood.
Because she believed him.
Because everyone else gave up.
---
The next day, Prentice confronted her.
“You seem very confident lately.”
Imara remained calm.
“I’m doing my job.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You’re investigating.”
She said nothing.
Prentice smiled.
“You’re a smart woman, Imara.”
The way he said her name felt like a warning.
“But intelligence can become dangerous when mixed with curiosity.”
“You tried to remove your own brother.”
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“You should be careful with accusations.”
“I’m careful with evidence.”
Prentice stared at her.
Then whispered:
“You have no idea who you’re protecting.”
After he left, Imara looked at Cyrus.
And for the first time...
May you like
She wondered if saving him would put her life in danger too.
---
