“Chloe is getting nervous. The lawyers are asking questions, and the board wants answers. You should have made this easier for everyone.”
He leaned forward.
“Do you know what your problem has always been, Julian? You believe loyalty is something you earn by giving people everything.”
A bitter laugh escaped him.
“You gave me a title, a salary, and a seat at your table. But you never gave me what I deserved.”
Julian’s fingers curled beneath the blanket.
Anthony continued.
“You were always the golden boy. The successful one. The man everyone admired. Even when you made mistakes, people called you brilliant.”
He stood and walked toward the window.
“Friday changes everything. Once the paperwork is finalized, nobody will be able to reverse what happens next.”
He turned back toward the bed.
“And if you somehow wake up before then, remember something: nobody will believe you over all the people who have already prepared for your death.”
Anthony straightened his jacket.
“Rest well, cousin.”
The door closed.
For several seconds, Julian didn’t move.
Then he slowly opened his eyes.
Anthony had just confirmed that Friday was the deadline—and that multiple people were coordinating their actions around it.
But Julian had heard something even more important.
Anthony hadn’t said the money would be released after a medical declaration.
He had said the paperwork would be finalized.
That meant the plan depended on more than Julian’s death.
It depended on control of the company.
And if the documents were fraudulent, someone was preparing to seize assets that did not belong to them.
At 11:40 a.m., Elena returned.
She entered quietly, checked the hallway, and locked the door.
“Mr. Vance, I spoke to your attorney.”
Julian struggled to sit a little higher against the pillows.
“What did he say?”
“He wants to meet you somewhere private. He also told me something strange.”
Julian waited.
“Your company received a request yesterday to activate an emergency succession agreement. The request included a document bearing your signature.”
Julian stared at her.
“That is impossible. I never signed it.”
“Your attorney said the signature looks genuine.”
“Because someone copied it.”
Elena nodded.
“He suspects the document was submitted before your accident.”
Julian felt a cold wave move through him.
Before the accident.
That changed everything.
The brake sabotage might not have been an impulsive decision made after his hospitalization. It could have been part of a carefully planned attempt to remove him after the transfer documents were prepared.
“Did Daniel say who submitted it?”
“Anthony Vance.”
Julian looked away.
For years, he had protected his cousin, believing that family disagreements could always be resolved privately.
Now that trust had become a weapon against him.
“Tell Daniel to preserve every document,” Julian said. “The original signature, the submission records, the access logs—everything.”
Elena took out her phone.
“And what about the police?”
“We contact them through my attorney. I want the evidence secured, and I want the people responsible investigated properly.”
He paused.
“But first, I need to know whether anyone else has access to my medical records.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because if they know I’m awake, they’ll know their plan has failed.”
At that moment, footsteps sounded outside the door.
Both of them froze.
A voice spoke through the glass panel.
“Mr. Vance’s medication is ready.”
Elena looked toward Julian.
He immediately closed his eyes and relaxed his face.
She unlocked the door.
A man in a white coat entered carrying a small tray.
“Good morning,” he said.
Elena stepped aside, watching him carefully.
The man approached the IV stand.
Then he noticed the chair beside the bed had been moved.
His eyes narrowed.
“Has anyone been sitting here?”
“His cousin visited earlier,” Elena replied calmly.
The man glanced at the patient.
For a fraction of a second, Julian thought the stranger was studying his face rather than checking the monitor.
Then the man smiled.
“Everything appears normal.”
He turned toward the door.
But before leaving, he looked directly at Elena.
“If he wakes up, call me immediately.”
The door closed behind him.
Elena stood perfectly still.
Julian opened his eyes.
“That was him,” she whispered. “The man with the scar.”
Julian’s expression turned cold.
They had found the person who had entered his room without authorization.
Now they needed to establish who he was, whether he was genuinely part of the medical team, and what he had done during those midnight visits.
“Call Daniel,” Julian said. “Tell him we have another witness.”
Elena nodded.
Then Julian added one final instruction.
“And Elena?”
She turned.
“From this moment forward, nobody gets access to my room without independent verification. Not Anthony. Not Chloe. Not even someone wearing a doctor’s coat.”
Outside, the hospital continued as usual. Visitors walked through the corridors, nurses changed shifts, and doctors attended to patients.
Nobody looking through the glass would have guessed that the supposedly unconscious billionaire had just begun fighting back.
But Julian knew the truth.
His enemies had made one fatal mistake.
They had mistaken silence for helplessness.
And by Friday, every lie, every forged document, and every betrayal would be brought into the light.
What Julian didn’t yet know was that the most dangerous person involved wasn’t Anthony—or even Chloe. It was someone whose name appeared on the original emergency agreement, someone he had trusted with his life for more than twenty years.
And that person’s signature was already waiting in his attorney’s office.
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