Emily, who had been standing in the corner, let out a strangled sob. "She doesn't know us," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her face. "She doesn't even know me."
Adrian turned away, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He couldn't look at Joi's terrified face any longer, couldn't bear the way she flinched from him. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to take a step back, then another, retreating from the room as the weight of her fear pressed down on him like a crushing tide.
Out in the corridor, Adrian leaned against the wall, his hand covering his face as he struggled to breathe. The video Shane had sent, the bruises, the blood—it had all been horrifying. But nothing compared to the way Joi looked at him now, as if he were the enemy she feared most.
Later, alone in the dimly lit hospital corridor, Adrian stood with his back pressed against the cold wall, his gaze fixed on the polished tiles beneath his feet. The faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead did nothing to drown out the torment playing on a loop in his mind.
Joi's tear-streaked face, the bruises, the blood—it all replayed in relentless clarity, every detail more vivid than the last. His hands, now trembling at his sides, clenched into fists.
"This is my fault," he murmured, his voice rough and hollow. The words felt like a confession, each syllable weighing heavier on his chest. "I waited too long."
Footsteps echoed softly in the corridor, and Alexander appeared at his side, his expression unreadable. He rested a firm hand on Adrian's shoulder, grounding him. "We saved her, Adrian. That's what matters now."
Adrian's head tipped back against the wall, his eyes closing as a bitter laugh escaped him. "Saved her?" His voice cracked, anger and despair intertwining. "She doesn't even know who I am. She's still trapped… trapped in that bastard's shadow. I couldn't protect her."
"You can help her now," Alexander said, his tone steady, unwavering. "But you need to keep your head in the game. This isn't over. Sophia and Shane aren't done with you—or her."
Adrian's eyes snapped open, the storm of emotions in his chest solidifying into something colder, sharper. His jaw tightened, and he pushed off the wall, standing taller, his resolve hardening.
"Then I'll finish it," he said, his voice low and steely, a promise laced with fury. His gaze, once clouded with guilt, burned with determination. "Both of them. They'll regret ever laying a hand on her."
Alexander's grip on his shoulder tightened briefly before releasing, a silent acknowledgment of the battle ahead. Together, they walked down the corridor, leaving behind the sterile hum of the hospital and stepping into the storm Adrian was ready to unleash.
---
Meanwhile, in her lavish home, Sophia sat seething, the rejection at the altar replaying in her mind like a relentless nightmare. The media had latched onto the scandal, turning her into the subject of ridicule, but nothing stung as much as Adrian's cold dismissal.
Across from her, Anna lounged on the couch, a sly smirk tugging at her lips. She swirled the wine in her glass with deliberate ease, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You know, Sophia," Anna began, her tone laced with mockery, "for someone who thought she had Adrian wrapped around her finger, you fell flat on your face. Quite the spectacle."
Sophia's head snapped toward her, her glare sharp enough to cut. "Don't push me, Anna. You think this is funny?"
"Oh, I think it's hilarious," Anna replied, leaning back with an air of triumph. "You paraded yourself like the perfect bride, and he left you humiliated in front of everyone. If I didn't know better, I'd say you deserved it."
Sophia's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. "Don't act like you're above this. You've been clawing for Adrian's attention just as much as I have."
Anna laughed, a cold, biting sound. "The difference is, I don't embarrass myself chasing after a man who clearly doesn't want me." She leaned forward, her smirk widening. "Face it, Sophia. You lost. And no amount of scheming will bring Adrian back to you."
Sophia's jaw tightened, her anger boiling over. "Don't be so smug, Anna. Adrian isn't yours either. He'll never look at you the way he used to look at me."
Anna's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered. "Maybe not," she said, rising to her feet, "but at least I don't look like a desperate fool clinging to a fantasy." With that, she walked away, leaving Sophia fuming, her mind racing with ways to reclaim the power she had lost.
---
Elsewhere, Shane sat in his office, his hand drumming against the edge of his desk. The loss of his hideout and Joi weighed heavily on his mind, but the humiliation of being outmaneuvered by Adrian was an even greater insult.
"Find out where they're keeping her," Shane growled, his voice low and menacing. "I want eyes on her, no matter what it takes."
One of his subordinates hesitated. "Boss, Adrian's security is airtight. It won't be easy to get close."
Shane's fist slammed into the desk, sending papers scattering. "I didn't ask for excuses!" he thundered, his voice echoing in the room. "Do whatever it takes. If we can't get close to her, then make Adrian suffer. Hit him where it hurts."
The men exchanged wary glances before nodding and retreating quickly. Shane sank into his chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly. Adrian may have won this round, but Shane wasn't finished. He would make Adrian pay—and he'd make sure Joi remembered who held the real power.
His mind burned with a single thought: Adrian may have taken Joi from him, but this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
---
Adrian returned to Joi's room, his steps slow and measured. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. Joi lay motionless, her face turned toward the window, her lips trembling as broken whispers escaped her.
Emily sat at her bedside, gently holding Joi's hand, her voice soft and steady. "It's okay, Joi. You're safe now. No one will hurt you again." But Joi's blank stare gave no indication she'd heard a word.
"Marcus… Mom… don't leave me," Joi murmured, her voice fragile, each word laced with anguish.