Chapter 126

Sean POV

"Mr. Shaw? You're awake?" Thomas's voice trembled with relief.

I forced my eyes open.

"Where am I?" My voice was weak. I hated it.

"Hospital VIP suite, sir. You've been unconscious for several hours."

I tried to sit up. My body fought against me. Thomas moved closer.

"Please, sir, you shouldn't exert yourself."

I waved him away. "What happened?"

The last thing I remembered was Angela coming to my hotel room to discuss her investment proposal. What happened after that?

Thomas swallowed. "You collapsed, sir. The doctors say it's your gastric ulcers again, but worse than last time. They're insisting on intravenous treatment and at least three days of observation. They've been clear that you must stop drinking and eat regularly or risk serious complications."

"Not happening. Get me discharge papers." Three days in a hospital bed? No chance.

"Sir, the doctors were extremely concerned about your condition. If you're not comfortable with this room, I can arrange a larger suite."

Thomas cleared his throat. "Sir, Ms. Wilson specifically instructed me to take good care of you."

My head snapped toward him. "What did you just say? Who was there?" My heart pounded as memories came back-Angela's scent, her voice, her hand on my forehead.

"Angela Wilson, sir," Thomas replied quietly.

"Is she still here?" I couldn't hide the need in my voice.

Thomas looked confused. "Still here? No, sir. She left after I arrived."

"It wasn't you who called the ambulance?"

"No, sir. Ms. Wilson contacted emergency services, then used your phone to call me. She... arranged everything."

That hit me hard. Angela hadn't run after I collapsed. She'd stayed, called for help, made sure I was taken care of. After five years of nothing, she'd stayed when she could have walked away.

Hope. Dangerous feeling.

"Where is she now?" I sat straighter, ignoring the pain. Maybe she was getting coffee. Maybe-

"Ms. Wilson departed shortly after I arrived, sir. She seemed tired."

The hope died fast. "She left? You didn't ask her to stay?"

"I don't have that authority, sir," Thomas said carefully. "She had already been here for several hours, handling your admission paperwork and expenses. She looked exhausted."

I could see it-Angela sitting by my bed, hair falling forward as she filled out forms, talked to doctors, waited for me to wake up. Then leaving the moment Thomas arrived, like she couldn't face me.

My fingers drummed against the sheets. Why stay at all? Why help me, then disappear before I woke up?

I had a plan. If Angela cared enough to keep me safe, she must still feel something for me. Something I could use.

"Remove these IVs," I ordered. "I'm leaving."

Thomas looked alarmed. "That's impossible, sir. You have two more bags of medication to complete. Ms. Wilson specifically instructed me to ensure you finished the full treatment."

Satisfaction warmed my chest. She'd given instructions for my care. She still cared.

"Is that so?" I let sarcasm fill my voice. "And you're following her orders now? Are you employed by Shaw Group or Wilson Advisory Partners?"

"This is solely for your health, sir," Thomas said weakly.

"I know my own health better than anyone," I shot back, enjoying how he squirmed. "Go handle the discharge paperwork."

When Thomas hesitated, I knew my plan was working. "Thomas Smith," I said coldly, "do you value your position at Shaw Group?"

Something changed in Thomas. He straightened up and looked me in the eye. "Mr. Shaw, if this is truly what you want, why didn't you demand it while Ms. Wilson was present? I couldn't help but notice that she's the only one who seems to genuinely influence your decisions."

I stared at him, speechless. Too accurate, too perceptive from this usually timid assistant.

Thomas's eyes lit up. "One moment, sir. I'll contact Ms. Wilson."

I turned away to hide my satisfaction. Perfect. She'd left clear instructions for my care, had spent hours making sure I was okay. Now I'd see if she meant it, or if it was just obligation.

I moved to the door as Thomas stepped into the hallway, positioning myself to hear his conversation. He called Marcus first, probably to get Angela's number. The wait felt endless.

Finally, her voice. Distant but unmistakable.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Wilson, I apologize for disturbing you, but it's urgent," Thomas explained. "Mr. Shaw has regained consciousness but is refusing treatment and demanding discharge."

"That's his choice," Angela replied coldly.

"The doctors say his ulcers are in a dangerous state. Leaving without completing treatment could be life-threatening."

I held my breath, waiting for her answer, that damned hope rising again despite myself.

"Thomas," she said finally, her voice tinged with irritation, "we've been divorced for five years. What makes you think he would listen to me? And why should I be the one to convince him?"

The words hit like punches. Five years. Divorced. Like what we had could be reduced to legal terms and time.

"You're the only one who can influence him," Thomas insisted. "The doctor explained that his condition is critical-the combination of gastric ulcers, alcohol, and irregular eating has created a dangerous situation."

"If Sean Shaw doesn't care about his own health, what can anyone else do?" Her voice hardened. "I'm sorry, but I can't come back."

I stepped away from the door, feeling empty. Five years of searching, and this was her answer. Five years of holding onto memories, passwords, connections-all meaningless to her.

I stared at the IV in my arm. If she didn't care whether I lived or died, what was the point?

I yanked the needle out. Blood ran down my arm, dripping onto the floor. The pain was almost welcome, taking my mind off the hollow in my chest.

I moved toward the door, determined to leave this place, leave the humiliation of showing weakness only to be rejected again.

The door opened as Thomas finished his call, his face changing from disappointment to horror when he saw the blood dripping from my arm.

"Mr. Shaw!" he shouted, rushing forward.