Chapter 5 - THE HIDDEN PROGRESS
“He wasn't supposed to be standing,” I said softly as Adrian completed his session and wheeled himself out into the private garden terrace fifteen minutes later.
I handed him a fresh towel and a glass of cold water with lemon.
“Thank you, Elena,” Adrian said, taking the glass. He wiped the back of his neck, his dark hair still damp with sweat. He looked up at me, a faint, dry smile touching his lips. “Victoria insisted that my physical therapy sessions be handled exclusively by a private doctor she hired.”
“The doctor who told the board you weren't making progress?” I asked, sitting on the stone bench across from him.
“Doctor Harrison,” Adrian confirmed bitterly. “For ten months, Harrison gave me heavy nerve suppressants and muscle relaxants. He told me the damage to my spine was absolute, that further physical therapy would only cause irreversible joint damage.”
My chest tightened with sudden anger. “He was drugging you.”
“He was keeping me sedated,” Adrian corrected softly. “Whenever I took those pills, my mind was foggy, my reaction times were slow, and I lacked the energy to review my personal financial statements. Victoria made sure I took them every morning with my breakfast.”
“How did you stop?”
“Four months ago,” Adrian revealed, looking out over the quiet lake, “I accidentally dropped my morning dose down the bathroom sink. By mid-afternoon, the mental fog cleared for the first time in nearly a year. I realized what they were doing. I began faking taking the medication—hiding the pills under my mattress, throwing them away when Victoria wasn't looking.”
He looked down at his legs, flexing his knees slightly beneath his dark trousers.
“Within six weeks,” Adrian continued, his voice thick with emotion, “the feeling began returning to my toes. I contacted an independent specialist in Boston under a fake alias. He reviewed my MRI scans and told me the spinal swelling had subsided months ago. The paralysis wasn't permanent—it was being artificially prolonged by the nerve suppressants Harrison was feeding me.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, sheer horror washing over me. The depth of the conspiracy against this man was terrifying. They hadn't just stolen his money; they had literally stolen his ability to walk, keeping him trapped in a wheelchair so they could control his six-billion-dollar empire.
“Why didn't you expose them immediately?” I whispered.
“Because, Elena,” Adrian said, his eyes turning to cold steel, “if you strike at a snake, you have to cut off its head. If I had exposed Victoria four months ago, Julian Vance and the corrupt board members would have covered their tracks, blamed everything on her, and hired another proxy to finish the job. I needed them to think I was still helpless.”
He looked at me, his gaze intense and unwavering.
“The night at the Grand Bellamy,” Adrian said, “was supposed to be the trap. I had arranged for Marcus to execute the audit during the gala. But I hadn't anticipated Victoria losing her temper and attempting to publicly humiliate me before the announcement.”
“And you hadn't anticipated a maid catching her hand,” I added softly.
Adrian let out a low, genuine laugh—the first real laugh I had heard from him since we met. It transformed his face, making him look years younger, erasing the hard lines of pain around his eyes.
“No, Miss Torres,” Adrian said warmly. “I certainly hadn't anticipated you. But catching her hand forced Julian’s network into early panic. They know the police are unraveling Victoria’s offshore accounts. Which means Julian will make his final move against Vale Aeronautics within days.”
Before I could answer, my corporate phone buzzed in my pocket.
May you like
I pulled it out. It was a high-priority notification from the estate security front gate.
“Miss Torres,” the head security officer’s voice came through the encrypted channel. “We have an unauthorized arrival at the main gate. COO Julian Vance and two private security guards are demanding entry. He claims he has an emergency board order to inspect Mr. Vale’s private office.”
