Rebecca's POV

The world around me felt blurred and distant as my eyes fluttered open. The sterile smell of medicine and disinfectant hit my senses immediately, and I realized I was in a hospital room. The ceiling lights above me were too bright, almost painful.

For a moment, everything was disorienting. The last thing I remembered was the sound of screeching tires... Gabriel's face, cold behind the wheel... and the impact that sent everything into darkness. My chest tightened as I tried to piece together the fragments of memory. The crash-it wasn't just an accident. Gabriel... He did this.

I blinked, and when my vision cleared, I saw Natasha sitting beside me. She had been my best friend since childhood, so I wasn't surprised to find her here. Still, her face was strained, her eyes red from what looked like hours of crying.

"Hey," she greeted softly the moment she noticed I was awake. Her voice trembled with relief, but when I tried to respond, the dryness in my throat made it impossible. All I could manage was a rough sound that felt like sandpaper.

"Don't try to speak yet. You've been through a lot." Natasha quickly moved to help me adjust on the bed, but when I tried to sit up, she stopped me. "No, you can't do that. The doctor said you need to stay still for a while longer."

My mind felt sluggish as I tried to process her words. What had happened? Why was I in a hospital? The images in my head-the cheating, the accident-flashed like broken pieces of glass. Then it hit me like a tidal wave. Gabriel. He cheated. He crashed into me. My heart pounded against my chest, panic rising with every second.

"Where's my mother?" I croaked, my voice weak but urgent. "Natasha, which hospital is this? I need to talk to my mom. I need to tell her about Gabriel-he needs to be arrested!"

At the mention of Gabriel, Natasha's face shifted, her eyes darkening with something I couldn't place. She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line, as if there was something she didn't want to tell me.

"Rebecca, just rest for now, okay? I'll call your mom once you're feeling better," Natasha said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

But I knew her too well. Something was wrong. My heart pounded in my chest, and panic began to rise. "Natasha, what's happened? Tell me! Where's my mother?" I demanded, my voice gaining strength through the fear gripping me.

Her face crumpled, and before she could hold back, tears welled up in her eyes. "Rebecca," she began, her voice thick with emotion. "You weren't just in an accident yesterday. You've been in a coma... for a month."

My heart stopped. "A month?" I echoed, disbelief crashing over me. "How? What about my mom? Where is she?"

Natasha took a deep breath, moving closer to sit on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were pained, and I could tell she was struggling to find the right words. "Your mom... She brought you to India for treatment after the accident. You had surgery, Rebecca. Your heart was damaged. But during the operation, you fell into a coma."

My pulse raced as I braced myself for the worst, sensing there was something even more devastating coming. "What about her? What happened to my mom, Natasha?" I begged, dread filling my voice.

"She's alive, but..." Natasha's voice wavered, and the words tumbled out quickly, as if she were afraid to tell me. "After you fell into a coma, the doctors told her there was a chance you wouldn't make it. The shock of it... she collapsed, Rebecca. She's been in a coma ever since. It's been a month. Tomorrow marks one month."

My heart felt like it had been ripped from my chest. I couldn't breathe; I couldn't process the weight of what Natasha had just told me. "No... no, that can't be true." I muttered, shaking my head, my voice breaking.

Natasha reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly. "The doctors say she's improving. She'll wake up, Rebecca. She has to."

"If I made it... then she can too," I whispered, trying to believe it, trying to cling to that hope. But deep down, I could feel something breaking inside me.

Before I could say more, the door to my hospital room opened, and the doctor stepped in. She made a quick check of my condition, shining a light into my eyes, nodding as if satisfied with my recovery. But none of it registered. My mind was far from this room, locked in the uncertainty of my mother's fate, and the growing fury I felt toward Gabriel.

***

The next morning, I felt strong enough to move, and I insisted on seeing my mother. Natasha reluctantly helped me out of bed, supporting me as I walked with slow, unsteady steps toward her room. I was weak, but determination pushed me forward.

As we neared the hallway, a sudden rush of doctors and nurses raced past us toward a room ahead. I froze as Natasha's grip tightened on my arm. Her face went pale, and her eyes filled with dread.

"No," she whispered, her voice breaking.

My stomach dropped. "Is it...?" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

Natasha didn't need to answer. Her expression said it all. Panic surged through me, and I pushed myself forward, ignoring the pain as I hobbled down the hallway. The doctors' voices echoed in my ears, frantic and urgent.

"We're losing her! Harder!" They shouted from the room.

My heart pounded as I reached the door, only to be stopped by a nurse. I stood there, helpless, watching through the glass as they worked on my mother. Every second felt like a lifetime. Tears blurred my vision, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Then, one of the doctors stepped out, his face sombre as he approached Natasha and me. His words were soft, but they might as well have been a death sentence.

"I'm sorry. We lost her."

The world shattered around me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed into Natasha's arms, wailing like a child. My mother was gone.

And in that moment, something inside me broke. Gabriel had tried to kill me. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he was responsible for this. For everything. The loss of my mother, the woman who had given me life, was because of him.

I wasn't the same person anymore. And Gabriel was going to find that out.

Rebecca's POV

By our tradition, the dead must not stay long before burial. I remember how my mother buried my father quickly after his death in 2009. And now, just two days after her passing, we laid my mother to rest as well.

Natasha and I left India and returned to Mandena, the country we call home.

After the funeral, we went back to the family mansion. It was only Natasha and me now-she was all I had left. As we settled into the sitting room, one of the housekeepers turned on the TV. And there he was: Gabriel. His face filled the screen, celebrating his one-month wedding anniversary.

Next to him was the same woman I had seen in his office, sitting on his lap like a queen. She was smiling, completely unaware of the destruction they'd caused in my life. They looked picture-perfect, soaking in the attention of flashing cameras.

But I wasn't heartbroken anymore. That part of me died with my mother. All I felt now was hatred-a deep, burning hatred for the man who had tried to kill me and who, in a way, had killed my mother. He had to pay for what he'd done, and I was going to make sure he did.

Suddenly, the villa assistant stepped into the room, dressed in a crisp white suit. "Ma'am, someone is here to see you. She says she's from the conglomerate."

I nodded, already knowing what this was about. Natasha smirked as if we both shared the same thought.

"Let her in," I said.

Within seconds, a woman stepped inside. She wore a black suit with sleek heels and her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. A pair of glasses perched perfectly on her nose, and in her hand was a briefcase. I didn't recognize her, but I knew my mother must have brought in new staff while I was away.

The woman bowed slightly. "Hello, Ma'am. I'm terribly sorry for your loss. My name is Attorney Victoria Kane, and I am your family's lawyer. Before Mrs. Becky Harrington passed, she wrote a will. In it, she transferred all her possessions to you, her heir. I'm here to finalize the process." She opened her briefcase and pulled out a thick document, handing it to me with a pen.

"Please sign here, ma'am," she said, pointing to a spot on the page. I glanced down and read the words: Rebecca Harrington, Heir of Valentine Conglomerate.

With a steady hand, I signed my name. The lawyer smiled. "Congratulations, Ma'am. You are now the president of the Valentine Conglomerate." She bowed again and prepared to leave.

"See you soon, ma'am," she said before exiting the room.

***

The next day, Natasha and I were ready to visit the conglomerate for the first time in years. We had already decided that Natasha would be my personal assistant. Who else could I trust more than my best friend?

As we drove to the conglomerate in the sleek company car, I thought back to everything that had happened. My mother's death. Gabriel's betrayal. The crash that nearly ended my life. And now, here I was-stepping into a position of power, armed with nothing but my wits and a burning desire for revenge.

When we arrived, the vice president of the company greeted us with enthusiasm.

"Good day, everyone. Ms. Rebecca Harrington, the heir of Valentine Conglomerate, is now the president of the company," he announced to the board members. They all stood and bowed, pledging their loyalty and support.

After the meeting, I called aside Mrs. Elena Brooks, the vice president, and the person who had been running things since my mother's decline.

"Mrs. Brooks, I'll be entrusting the day-to-day operations to you for now. I have some personal matters to handle, but I will take over soon," I said.

Mrs. Brooks, a capable woman who had always worked closely with my mother, nodded respectfully. "Yes, Ma'am."

As she left, I exchanged a knowing glance with Natasha. We both smirked, sharing the same unspoken thought: this was the beginning of our plan.

Gabriel was going to pay. And with Natasha's skills, he didn't stand a chance. While I would handle things in the field, Natasha would work behind the scenes. She was an expert in cybersecurity, having worked for major companies before joining me in our cause. Together, we would set everything in motion.

***

By the evening, Natasha and I had set up a small operations room in the mansion. She worked on her laptop, pulling up data and tracking every move Gabriel made. His accounts, his communications-nothing was beyond her reach.

"We've got our first target," Natasha said, her eyes gleaming as she spun the laptop towards me. There, on the screen, was Gabriel's bank account information.

"This is just the beginning," I whispered, feeling the weight of the moment.

The game had started, and there was no turning back now.

Gabriel's POV

"Babe, what about the bags and money you promised me?"

Every morning, without fail. Her voice was like an alarm I couldn't turn off, and I was starting to feel like I was trapped in a nightmare. Emmanuella was obsessed with material things, and I could barely stomach it anymore. How did I not see this before I married her? Worse, how could I have left my loyal wife, Rebecca, for someone like her?

It's only been a month since the wedding, and I already knew I had traded a diamond for a stone. Sure, Emmanuella was beautiful-no one could deny that-but beauty fades. The reality? It's hitting me harder than I expected. I was a fool. A complete fool.

During one of my interviews after the divorce, someone asked me why I left Rebecca. Back then, I said she wasn't as flashy as Emmanuella, that I needed someone who could boost my company's image. What a shallow thing to say. If I had just asked Rebecca to dress differently, to be more in line with what I thought I wanted, she would've done it without hesitation. Because that's who she was-loyal, loving, always trying to please me.

But instead, I chased after someone whose only goal was extravagance. In just one month, I've bought Emmanuella 366 bags, 400 shoes, and 30 wigs. Honestly, I lost count of the dresses. It sounds ridiculous, but this is my reality now. Every day, it's the same: "Babe, what about the bags and cash you promised?"

I'm done. Absolutely done. I've learned my lesson the hard way. I want back what I threw away. Rebecca was everything-modest, understanding, and the best cook I'd ever known. Emmanuella couldn't even make toast without burning it.

I can't believe I threw away someone who loved me that much... and I even tried to kill her. Yes, that night when I hit Rebecca with my car, crashing into the streetlight, trying to silence her. What was I thinking? Was I that desperate? The memory churned my stomach. The guilt was a heavy blanket that suffocated me daily.

I opened my laptop, my hands trembling as I searched for any trace of Rebecca online. I needed to know if she was okay. Did she make it? Was she even still alive? My heart raced as I typed her name into Facebook, hoping-praying-for a sign.

Her last post hit me like a punch to the gut. It was about me. About how she had planned to surprise me on my birthday with a gift at the office. She never got to give it to me. My chest tightened as I stared at the screen. Rebecca had always been so thoughtful. Always giving, even when I didn't deserve it. Emmanuella, on the other hand? I could buy her a whole mall, and she wouldn't even think to get me a pair of socks.

I moved to her Instagram profile, scrolling, desperate for updates. But her last post was the same as Facebook. My panic grew. I needed to know if she was okay. If she made it. Then it hit me-Natasha, her best friend. If anyone knew where Rebecca was or how she was doing, it would be her.

I searched for Natasha's profile, and my heart sank as soon as I saw it. A picture of Rebecca lying unconscious in a hospital bed, hooked up to drips. The caption read, "Pray for us. It's really bad."

My chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. The guilt was overwhelming. I wanted to scream, to punch something, to take a gun and end it all. How had I let things get this far? I was the reason she was there, and I couldn't undo what I'd done.

But I couldn't let it end this way. Not without trying to make things right. I had to see her. I had to ask for her forgiveness.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Natasha's number, my hands shaking. It rang once... twice... then cut off. I called again. Still nothing. The message kept repeating, "Number busy." Over and over.

She had blocked me.

Natasha had always been kind and supportive, always there for Rebecca and me. I couldn't blame her for blocking my number now. After everything I had done, I deserved it. But I needed to know-was Rebecca okay? Was she even conscious?

Frustrated, I scrolled through Natasha's posts, searching for clues. There was no location tagged in the hospital photo. Nothing that told me where Rebecca was.

Just as I was about to give up, my Instagram feed refreshed, and a new post appeared on my screen. The headline hit me like a truck.

Rebecca is the new president of Valentine's Conglomerate?

I stared at the screen in shock, my mind reeling. Valentine's Conglomerate was one of the biggest companies in Mandena, one I had always admired. And now Rebecca, my ex-wife, was their president?

My heart ached. It felt like it was being ripped apart. How could this be? Was Rebecca an heir to the conglomerate all along, and I had no idea? Or had she risen to this position out of sheer resilience?

The questions swirled in my mind, but one thing was clear-I had underestimated Rebecca. I had taken her for granted, assuming I could walk away and be fine. Now, more than ever, I wanted her back. But after all I had done... Was there even a chance?

As I scrolled through more posts about her new role, I felt a mixture of pride and regret. She had always been capable, always had that spark. It was infuriating to realize that I hadn't appreciated her enough when I had the chance. My heart raced at the thought of reaching out, of begging her for another opportunity.

But would she even consider it? After the pain I caused? 

With my heart in my throat, I steeled myself. I couldn't just sit here in regret. I had to find a way to make things right, to prove to her that I was still the man she once loved.