Fiona’s sight wasn’t a lost cause—not yet. The doctor had said that if she was ever going to see again, they needed to find a suitable cornea and transplant it within three days. Otherwise, even the best specialists would call it nearly impossible.

“Is there still no news?” Brodie Wagner asked over the phone as he stepped out of the elevator, his expression tight.

“None,” came the reply from the other end. It was Ray Lawrence, his assistant. “There are two potential donors on the list, but both have eye issues that make them unsuitable for transplant. As for other options, there are none.”

Those other options referred to people who, in desperate financial situations, might consider selling their corneas.

“Brodie, there’s something I’m not entirely sure about. It just seems... strange...” Ray hesitated, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“We’ll talk later. I have something to deal with right now.”

He ended the call abruptly, just as Dr. Zachary Thompson, Fiona’s attending physician, came up to him eagerly.

“Mr. Wagner, you’re just in time,” the doctor said, barely hiding his excitement. “We’ve found a match.”

“Is it voluntary?” Brodie asked.

Leaning in, Dr. Thompson whispered, “A young woman was in a severe car accident. She’s in the ER now. They couldn’t come up with the money, so her boyfriend agreed quickly. I did a preliminary check—everything seems fine.”

“Do you need to meet him?”

“No need,” Brodie replied. “Just tell the ER to do everything possible to save her. The Wagner Group will cover all expenses. Let him know there will be additional compensation after a successful transplant.”

“Understood, Mr. Wagner.”

“When can the surgery take place?”

“The donor needs some pre-op exams. Surgery can proceed once they’re done.”

“Give me a timeframe.”

“About five hours from now.”

“Good. Get everything ready. I’ll talk to Fiona.”

“Understood, Mr. Wagner.”

Dr. Thompson hurried off to make preparations, while Brodie walked purposefully into Fiona’s hospital room.

At the sound of his footsteps, the woman on the bed immediately sat up, reaching out with both hands. “Brodie, is that you?”

“It’s me.” Brodie approached, poured a cup of coffee, and handed it to her. “How are you feeling?”

Fiona’s hands tensed for a moment as she took the cup, but she quickly masked it with a smile, thanked him, and took a sip. “Are you surprised I knew it was you? I know your footsteps. Your scent. Even if I went blind, I’d still know it was you, Brodie.”

“But...” Her smile faded into a frown. “This time, I might actually lose my sight completely. Would you still care for me if that happened?”

Brodie took the cup back from her hands. “We found a cornea. You’ll have surgery in five hours. Soon you’ll see the world again.”

“Really?” She gripped his hand with excitement. “I’ll really get to see you again? That’s wonderful. Absolutely wonderful...”

Gently pulling his hand away, Brodie said, “You need to stay calm with the surgery approaching. Do you want something to eat?”

Fiona withdrew her hands and, out of his sight, clenched them into fists. Her sharp nails almost pierced her palms. She resented Brodie’s detached demeanor. If not for that—and if Ariel hadn’t come back—she wouldn’t have felt compelled to take such drastic steps and end up in this dreadful situation.

“Yes,” she replied, feigning delight.

Fiona knew that if she remained silent or refused, Brodie would simply turn back to his work without questioning her.

“What do you want to eat? I’ll grab it for you.”

“Never mind, then. I don’t want you to leave,” she pouted.

“I’ll call in an order.”

Satisfied with his response, Fiona enjoyed a meal with him. Perhaps because of her upcoming surgery, when she expressed nervousness and asked Brodie to stay with her until it was over, he surprisingly agreed.

While one rested as instructed by the doctor and the other was absorbed in work, a sense of unspoken harmony settled over them. However, less than an hour before the surgery, an unexpected call shattered the calm.

“Hello, Mr. Wagner. I’m from the management at your Maple Grove estate. Are you at home right now?” The voice on the other end sounded urgent.

“Maple Grove?”

He repeated the name in confusion, momentarily forgetting which of his properties it was.

“Yes, the vacation villa halfway up the Alps.”

Brodie’s expression changed instantly as he remembered he had left Ariel Reed locked up there.

“No, I’m not. What’s happened?”

“Your house caught fire. We’ve called the fire department. Could you come as soon as possible?”

A fire? What on earth was that woman up to now?

“I’m on my way,” he replied swiftly, heading for the elevator. “How bad is the fire?”

“Details are unclear at the moment. Our team is en route.”

“There’s someone inside. Ensure her safety at all costs, and update me immediately.”

Ending the call, he raced toward the parking garage. That woman had completely lost her mind!

He slammed his palm against the steering wheel in frustration, fuming at every red light. Fortunately, just as he neared the city limits, a call came through reporting that the fire was contained and the person inside was safe. Otherwise, he was sure he would have run a red light, unable to contain his rage.

Approaching the villa district, another call informed him that the fire was extinguished and Ariel was safe, escorted away by the firefighters.

Assuming they mistook Ariel for an intruder, he was ready to clear it up. But the hesitant explanation from the estate manager made it clear he had misunderstood the situation.

“Your wife claimed you two had a fight and... she was locked inside. She said she had something urgent to do, hence the extreme measures.”

His assumption that Ariel had been desperate enough to set the place on fire was completely wrong. She had, once again, found a way to escape.

Brodie let out a dry chuckle at the irony. Ariel Reed never failed to defy his expectations.

He called Ray Lawrence, instructing him to locate Ariel, and with a swift turn, headed back to the hospital.

Before he even left the city, Fiona was calling repeatedly, distressed to find him gone. Dr. Thompson also called to inform him that Fiona, upon learning the cornea donor was a living person, was refusing the surgery. He needed to return promptly.

It didn’t take long for Ray Lawrence to report back.

“The fire department didn’t know who Ms. Reed was, so they intended to take her to the police station. Should I arrange to have her picked up?”

“No.” Brodie’s eyes glinted with cold resolve. “Tell them to lock her up.”

Though surprised, Ray Lawrence set about carrying out his orders without question.

Brodie’s phone was nearly dead—flooded with calls from the hospital and Fiona and her mother’s frantic attempts to reach Brodie—when Brodie finally made it back to the hospital.

He walked briskly down the corridor, heading straight for the room. Before he could knock, the urgent voices inside stopped him cold.

“If Ariel Reed were here, I’d make her face this head-on. But I’ve searched everywhere—I can’t find her. Please, just trust me this time. Okay? We can’t afford to wait. Miss this chance, and you may never see again,” Maria pleaded, her voice teetering between urgency and despair.

“Brodie… I need Brodie…” Fiona’s voice shook.

“Okay, okay. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Brodie will be here soon. I’ll call him again,” Maria soothed, shooting a nervous glance at her phone.

Brodie paused in the doorway, then slipped quietly into the room. His phone gave one last dying flicker and went black.

“Brodie? Is that you?” Fiona asked instantly, as if she could feel him there despite her blindness. She shot upright, hands reaching for him—only to fumble and nearly tumble off the bed.

Brodie moved fast, catching her before she fell and easing her back onto the bed. She clung to his neck like she’d never let go.

“Brodie, don’t leave me,” she sobbed.

“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t cry,” Maria murmured, worry threading through every word.

Brodie frowned down at the woman clinging to him like her life depended on it. “There was an emergency at work. It’s fine. No more tears.”

Fiona was anything but reassured. Her grip tightened, teeth gritted in silent frustration.

She hadn’t been asleep when Brodie’s phone woke her earlier. She’d heard it clearly—Maple Grove Villa. He hadn’t gone to the office. He’d lied.

Maria exchanged a look with her daughter, gave a tiny nod of understanding, and slipped out of the room, phone in hand.

“Tell me—why don’t you want the surgery?” Brodie’s voice was firm, leaving no room to dodge.

Fiona pulled back a little, dabbing at her eyes with a sob that felt a touch too practiced. “I know what it’s like not to see. Unless it’s for someone on the brink of death, I can’t push that hopelessness and despair onto someone else.”

“That boy is so young. He’s already fighting for his life. How could I take his eyes, too? It feels wrong,” she went on, her voice quivering with a martyr’s Fiona.

Maria cut in, slicing right through the sentiment. “You were generous. You gave him money for treatment. But what about you? Do you really want to live in darkness forever?”

“Of course not,” Fiona said. “I want to see you. I want to see Brodie every moment. But I can’t build my happiness on someone else’s suffering. We’re not enemies. I can’t destroy someone else’s life.”

“Who told you about the donor?” Brodie’s tone sharpened.

Fiona flinched, then quickly deflected. “I overheard it. Don’t blame anyone else.”

Maria cut in, her expression turning serious. “Brodie, do you know where Ariel Reed is?”

“She’s in jail. She set fire to my villa,” Brodie said, no sugarcoating it. Then he turned back to Fiona. “Listen to me. Get the surgery. I’ll find him another suitable donor. He won’t stay blind. I’ll cover his living expenses in the meantime. Fiona, he can wait. You can’t.”

The logic landed. Fiona was speechless for a beat, her protest shrinking to a murmur. “But I already gave him the money for treatment. I can’t take it back if he refuses.”

“I’ll handle it. Rest now.”

With that, Brodie turned to leave. Fiona reached for her mother at once, panic rising. “Mom, what happened? Did you find her?”

“Calm down, darling.” Maria hurried to steady her. “Yes. We found her at the villa.”

“I knew it!” Fiona slapped the bed in frustration. “I knew Brodie still has feelings for her!”

“Don’t worry. What threat could she possibly be? A mother with a child, nearly blind herself. She’ll be here soon. Once your surgery is done, I’ll make sure she’s sent far away—so far she’ll never trouble you again.”

“Mmm…” Fiona nestled into Maria with a sigh. “You’re the best, Mom.”

Elsewhere in the hospital, Brodie approached a pale young man outside the ICU. He looked barely older than a teenager.

“I can pay for the best prosthetics in the world for her,” Brodie said, cutting straight to it.

He’d already been briefed on the girl’s condition: her leg had been crushed by a car, and she needed an amputation below the thigh.

“Half a million—just enough to save her life,” Brodie continued, naming the exact amount Fiona had given.

“Is she after my eyes again?” the young man asked. His voice was low, unsettlingly calm for his age.

Brodie faltered for half a second. “She doesn’t want them. But she needs them.”

He knew how selfish it sounded, so he tried another angle. “I’ll cover her prosthetics. I’ll make sure you don’t stay blind forever. I’ll find you a donor and restore your sight. All expenses on me—and I’ll cover your living costs until then.”

“Plus, there’s a five-million-dollar reward.”

The young man stayed silent, head bowed. He neither agreed nor refused.

“I don’t have time to waste,” Brodie pressed, frustration creeping in. “If you have any other demands, say them now.”

“She doesn’t need your help,” the young man finally looked up, meeting Brodie’s eyes with a resolve Brodie couldn’t read. “And she doesn’t need mine.”

“I’ll repay the half-million…”

His meaning was clear. But he never finished—urgent footsteps and a shout echoed down the hall, growing closer.

“Help! Help! Murder!”

Brodie recognized the voice instantly. Ariel. But she was supposed to be in police custody. What was she doing here?

His mind raced with questions as he rushed toward the commotion.

Behind him, the young man went even paler at Ariel’s name—and, for reasons he couldn’t explain, followed Brodie.

Ariel Reed tore down the hospital corridor, her heart hammering with fear and desperation. Brodie Wagner caught up to her and pinned her against the wall, his grip firm and unyielding.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

Tears flooded Ariel’s eyes as she stared up at him. “Brodie, are you seriously going to make me give her my corneas?” Her voice cracked, raw with anguish.

“Why are you even here? I told Ray to—”

“Mr. Wagner!” Ray Lawrence cut in, breathless and sweating. “By the time I got there, Ms. Reed was already gone. Your phone was off…”

Through the chaos, Maria Reed’s commanding voice rang down the hall, growing louder with every step. “Brodie, catch her!”

“What’s going on, Maria?” Brodie asked as Maria and several doctors rushed toward them. Instinctively, he stepped in front of Ariel, shielding her.

“She’s the reason my daughter’s eyes are ruined. Now Fiona’s doomed to live in darkness forever. Justice demands the culprit pay, Brodie. I’m going to have Ariel’s eyes transplanted into Fiona. Do you object?”

“Have you forgotten basic law?” Ariel shot back, her voice slicing through the chaos. “Your daughter’s misfortune is her own doing. Why should I be the scapegoat for her actions?”

“Let’s talk about this back at home,” Brodie interjected, glancing at the onlookers peeking out from other hospital rooms. He took Ariel by the wrist, ready to head back to the elevator, then paused to address a boy lingering in the shadows. “I hope you’ll reconsider.”

Caught in the tension, Ariel turned to see where Brodie had been looking, but the boy stayed hidden in the darkness, his face obscured. She didn’t notice the flicker of recognition in his eyes when they landed on her.

The boy stood frozen, watching Ariel’s figure retreat until she disappeared around the corner. Once the sensor-activated lights dimmed and he was alone again, his mind buzzed with a flurry of thoughts, though his expression stayed calm as he followed the path the others had taken.

“There’s no bad blood between us. Fiona never intended to harm Ariel. But now that the cause of her blindness is standing right here, what else is there to consider? Brodie, do you truly want Fiona to remain blind for the rest of her life?” Maria implored, desperation thick in her voice.

“Organ donation requires voluntary consent,” Ariel declared boldly. “Mrs. Ashcroft, if you plan to use force, be prepared to face the consequences. I’ll fight until my eyes are returned!”

She stood with her chin lifted defiantly, though inside she was trembling. The combined influence of the Wagner and Reed families could easily dismiss her threats, but she had no other leverage. Once in their grasp, she had to muster whatever courage she could.

“You won’t end up blind, sister,” Fiona said, feigning reassurance as she clutched Brodie’s arm like she needed his support. She wasn’t worried about Ariel’s threats; she cared far more about Brodie’s reaction.

“Brodie promised to find a suitable donor for you. Think of it as saving me. If I don’t have the procedure now, I’ll lose my chance forever, while you can wait. Brodie, help me convince her,” Fiona pleaded, casting a hopeful glance at Brodie.

But Brodie didn’t respond to her plea. Instead, he said, “I’ve arranged something. There’s no time to waste here.”

His willingness to lie made his stance clear.

Even if Fiona couldn’t see through the lie, Brodie’s vague answer was enough to make her seethe inside.

Before she could vent her frustration, Ariel’s voice cut through the tension with icy resolve. “You expect me to wait? Like my daughter has waited for five years, clinging to shattered hope?”

“Don’t think for a second that I don’t know the truth!”

Ariel’s voice burned with anger as she continued. Her daughter, Capri, didn’t have a rare blood type. By the third year of searching, suspicion had crept into Ariel’s heart. By the fourth year, she was nearly certain someone was deliberately blocking their search. The prime suspect—someone who knew Capri’s true parentage—was Fiona, undoubtedly backed by Maria Reed’s considerable influence.

But knowing was one thing; proving it was another. Ariel’s resources were limited, her influence insignificant. She was powerless to fight against them. Desperate to make a move, she had contacted Dr. Dexter Fox, who had secretly arranged for her to return and confront Brodie.

“You can’t just hurl accusations like that!” Fiona protested, incredulity lacing her voice.

Ariel, unwilling to look at Fiona’s feigned innocence, snapped back, “I’ll agree to the transplant.”

Ariel steadied her racing heart and turned to Brodie, a sudden plan forming in her mind. “Allow Brodie to donate to my daughter. Call Dr. Fox and have them bring my daughter and grandfather back. The surgeries should happen simultaneously.”

A single pair of eyes in exchange for her daughter’s safety—she would do it.

For a moment, silence hung over the room.

“Do you agree?” Ariel asked, breaking the stillness.

“Are you so certain I’m a match?” Brodie inquired darkly.

“Dr. Fox came back three months ago, and you had a physical around the same time,” Ariel responded, her voice uneasy. “Brodie, I didn’t mean to hide it from you. I had no choice. I couldn’t just stand by and watch…”

She had matched Brodie secretly. If the test was positive, she’d confront him; if not, she’d vanish like she had five years ago, without a word.

What was he to her—a walking bone marrow bank?

Ariel watched the storm gathering in Brodie’s expression. She longed to explain but couldn’t find the words.

A sudden knock at the door cut through the simmering tension. Dexter Fox leaned in, addressing Brodie. “Mr. Carter has agreed to donate after all. He wants a word with you.”

With that, he exited the room.

Brodie’s gaze bore into Ariel’s. She shifted uncomfortably but whispered, “Who is Mr. Hayes?”

The name tugged at her memory, familiar in a way she couldn’t ignore. Even after all these years, the name stirred something in her.

“It’s none of your concern,” Brodie replied coldly, brushing off her question as he turned to leave.

Ariel’s instinct was to follow, a sense of dread gnawing at her, but Fiona blocked her path.

“Stop right there!”

The arrogance in Fiona’s voice was palpable, any pretense of vulnerability vanished.

“I’m giving you one last chance. Are you sure you won’t consent to the transplant?”

Ariel looked at Fiona as if she were mad. “Not unless you agree to my terms.”

“Fine!” Fiona snapped, her composure vanishing as triumph sparkled in her eyes. “The sins you evade will inevitably be borne by those closest to you. Just make sure you don’t regret it.”

In this world, the only one Ariel truly held dear was her daughter, Capri. Brodie had once been dear to her too, but he hadn’t wanted to stay. Capri, on the other hand, was safe overseas, free from Fiona’s reach. What could she possibly regret?

For a brief moment, Ariel dismissed Fiona’s warning as baseless. But the mention of Frank Hayes lingered in her mind, an unwelcome echo of uncertainty.

Could it be him?

No, it couldn’t be. He was entrenched in a family of greater repute than the Wagners, beyond anyone’s manipulation.

“Focus on yourself,” Ariel retorted, striding from the room, though her confidence wavered.

Still, worry gnawed at her. She made her way to Dr. Thompson’s office, hoping to glean more information.

Neither Dexter nor Brodie was there, and her frantic search throughout the hospital turned up nothing. Turning a corner, she collided with someone unexpected.

“I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, stumbling into the man’s arms, only to be yanked away.

“Where are you going?” Brodie demanded impatiently, pulling her from the stranger’s embrace.

Ariel didn’t hear him. Her heart was pounding as she looked up at the man she’d run into, his face a shadowed fragment from her past.

“Victor…” she murmured softly, barely daring to believe it.

Had it really been twelve years? She hadn’t seen him since, and she hadn’t spoken his name aloud once in all that time.