Nearly forty minutes passed before a limited-edition Rolls-Royce glided to a halt outside the hospital. From the car, a man emerged wearing a black mask and a perfectly fitted suit, his presence commanding instant attention. It was Corinna's older brother.

Without hesitation, Corinna rushed toward him and he caught her mid-step and wrapped his arms around her as if afraid she might disappear again. "You're alive, Cora. You're really standing here. Is this actually happening, or is my mind playing tricks on me?"

Moisture filled Corinna's eyes as she held on to him just as tightly. "It's real, Liam."

Several long seconds passed before Liam Walsh managed to steady his breathing. Redness rimmed his eyes, and emotion scraped through his voice. "If you were alive all this time, why did you stay silent for three years? Do you even know what those years did to me—"

A gentle interruption stopped him. "I'm sorry," Corinna said quietly. "Not here. We'll talk once we're in the car."

Seated inside the vehicle, Corinna, her eyes still swollen and red, recounted everything she had endured during the past three years.

Tension carved itself into Liam's face. His grip tightened around the steering wheel, and anger bled into his gaze until his eyes turned red. "They did all of that to you?" he said, his voice trembling. "I won't let this go. I'll make them answer for it."

A faint warmth settled in Corinna's chest, though she slowly shook her head. "Please let it end here," she replied. "Dorothy saved my life back then, and as for Vincent and me, there's nothing left between us."

After swallowing hard, she continued with quiet resolve, "From this moment on, the Spencer family has no place in my life."

Pain showed plainly in the way Liam studied her, and guilt passed over his features. "This happened because I failed to find you. You went through all of it without me."

A faint smile touched Corinna's lips, and her gaze remained calm and unwavering. "It's finished. No one can survive by staring at the past forever."

Hearing that seemed to ease him. "If you truly believe that, then I can finally breathe."

At the very least, his sister was not someone who would ruin herself for a man unworthy of her heart.

Resolve sharpened Corinna's smile. "Liam, now that I've returned, I'm reclaiming what belongs to us," she said firmly. Her tone darkened. "And we will avenge what happened to Mom and Dad. Every last bit of it will be answered for."

......

By the time Vincent learned about Corinna's accident and rushed to the hospital, she had already left.

Sharp irritation edged his voice as he demanded an answer. "Where is Corinna?"

Barely holding back her anger, Cecelia said, "That ungrateful woman left a divorce agreement and said she wants to end the marriage. She even dared to lay hands on me!" Her fury spilled over. "She's lucky I wasn't seriously hurt. If I had been, I would have made her regret it."

Silence followed as Vincent lowered his eyes to the papers in his hand. Corinna's name was already signed on the final page, neat and unmistakably intentional.

The woman who had once centered her entire world around him now wanted to walk away.

A crushing weight settled over his chest, trapping his breath and leaving him restless with an unfamiliar, suffocating discomfort.

Sensing the shift in his mood, Cecelia rushed to speak before he could react. "Go after her immediately. Bring her back here and force her to apologize to me!"

Control still marked Vincent's expression, though exhaustion lingered beneath the surface. "Mom," he muttered, his tone cold and deliberate. "Corinna is my wife, and I expect you to show her respect."

Shock froze Cecelia in place. Since when did he stand up for that woman?

Paying no attention to her reaction, Vincent reached for his phone and called Corinna. The line went straight to voicemail. He tried again, then once more, yet silence greeted him every time. Only then did it sink in that she had blocked his number.

Tension hardened his jaw as he headed straight for the hospital's security room. As soon as the footage began to play, his face darkened.

The screen showed a luxury car pulling up outside the entrance. Without the slightest pause, Corinna rushed toward the man who had stepped out. Strong arms closed around her as he pulled her close, and the two of them lingered there, speaking in voices too gentle for the cameras to record. Moments later, he guided her into the car, his hand resting at her back with an ease that suggested he belonged there.

From the screen, Vincent followed the car as it disappeared from view, his jaw tightening until pain set in. A cold shadow crossed his face, and the fury in his eyes made the space around him feel dangerous.

What he had seen did not resemble an encounter between strangers. They looked like two people bound by long familiarity, not chance.

Understanding struck him then. That was the reason she wanted the divorce. Another man had already taken his place.

"Corinna," he said quietly, his voice hard as iron. "Just wait." Pressure built as his hand curled into a fist, his knuckles cracking under the strain.

Three days passed before tension settled thickly over the boardroom at Walsh Group's headquarters.

A weary sigh escaped Nigel Walsh as he addressed the room. He sat at the head of the table in a sapphire-blue suit, wearing the expression of a man weighed down by responsibility. "Everyone here has reviewed this quarter's performance," he said. "From where I stand, the smartest move is to stop the bleeding and sell the subsidiaries that are dragging us down while we still have the chance."

By blood, Nigel was Corinna and Liam's uncle, the younger brother of their late father.

Business had never been Liam's ambition. After Corinna vanished and their parents passed away, no one remained to stand in Nigel's way, and he stepped into control of Walsh Group.

Running the company, however, proved far beyond his ability. Under his leadership, the company declined year after year. Profits shrank. Multiple subsidiaries slipped deep into losses. Eventually, unloading companies became his default answer to every crisis.

At the mention of another sale, Robert Wells, a man who had stood beside Corinna's father since the beginning, rose abruptly from his seat and struck the table with his palm. "Nigel Walsh!" he shouted. "Do you really intend to destroy everything your brother spent his life building?"

Irritation hardened Nigel's expression. "My brother is gone," he replied coldly. "Walsh Group belongs to me now."

Leaning closer to the table, he raised his voice. "If I decide we sell, then that is exactly what will happen."

Anger made Robert's breathing uneven as he prepared to fire back, but a calm female voice sliced through the tension and brought the room to a halt. "I disagree!"

Before anyone could react, the boardroom doors burst open under a forceful kick.

A formation of bodyguards dressed in black suits poured inside, silent and efficient. With trained coordination, they spread out and positioned themselves along the walls.

Only after that did she appear. The sharp sound of stilettos echoed across the floor as she walked in at an unhurried pace. A tailored red dress traced her figure, her long hair swept neatly back, and dark sunglasses concealed her eyes. What remained visible was an elegant nose and lips tinted a deep rose.

Power followed her every step, blending striking beauty with unmistakable authority.

Whispers traveled quickly around the table.

"Who is she?"

"How did she get past security?"

Fury exploded across Nigel's face as he slammed his palm down. "Who the hell do you think you are? Where's the security? Get her out of here. Now!"

With an unhurried motion, the woman raised her hand and slid her sunglasses off. Clear, piercing eyes locked onto Nigel as a faint smile touched her lips. "Uncle Nigel, do I really look that unfamiliar to you?" she asked lightly.

Shock stiffened Nigel's body. His eyes widened, and his hands began to shake. "You-you're still alive?"

Years ago, he had orchestrated the kidnapping and the explosion. She was never meant to survive.

A chill crept into Corinna's smile. "Were you hoping I wouldn't be?"

Forcing air into his lungs, Nigel struggled to regain control. "No. I was just… caught off guard," he said stiffly.

Calm yet dangerous, Corinna shifted her gaze toward the table. "I heard you discussing the sale of my parents' subsidiaries."

Another sigh escaped him. "Those companies have been hemorrhaging money for years. Selling them would stabilize our finances. Everything I've done is for Walsh Group's benefit."

A sharp gleam flashed through Corinna's eyes. "My parents built this company into something strong and profitable. So explain to me why it began to rot the moment you took control."

Color drained from Nigel's face.

Before he could retort, Corinna spoke with quiet authority. "If you are incapable of running it, then step aside and give it back to me." Her smile remained soft, but her voice carried unshakable resolve. "I will succeed where you failed."

Rage burst out of Nigel as he slammed his fist against the table. "What could you possibly understand about managing a corporation? I've sacrificed everything for Walsh Group. Everyone sitting here knows exactly how much I've given. And now you suddenly appear and think you can force me out? Keep dreaming!"

A quiet, scornful chuckle slipped from Corinna. "So this is what you call contribution?" she asked coldly.

Behind him, the massive LED screen flickered to life, and years of concealed misconduct filled the display in stark detail.

"Sixty million siphoned from company accounts for your personal use," Corinna said, her tone precise and unforgiving. She continued without pause, "Nepotistic hires. Illicit kickbacks approved under your watch. Inferior materials were swapped in to cut costs, followed by endless customer complaints. And throughout your tenure, profits collapsed year after year." Her eyes were fixed on him. "Is this what you mean by sacrificing everything for Walsh Group?"

Business had never been Liam's priority. His only focus had been on finding his missing sister, which was why he allowed Nigel to run the company without interference.

The moment Corinna stepped back into this world, she sensed that something was wrong. She quietly contacted her network and began uncovering Nigel's history. Within three days, the truth lay fully exposed.

Once her words landed, chaos erupted throughout the boardroom.

"No wonder those subsidiaries keep losing money. So this is what you've really been doing!"

Another shareholder leaned forward, anger sharp in his tone. "Our dividends have fallen year after year because you were filling your own pockets," he said. "That money should have gone to all of us, yet you spent it on yourself. How do you even dare to claim this was for the company?"

Under the pressure, Nigel's calm finally shattered. He tried to steady his expression, but fear had already crept into his voice. "This is all fabricated! Every bit of it is fake. She planted these lies."

Turning sharply, he pointed at Corinna. "Corinna, I'm your uncle. How could you accuse your own family like this?"

Not a single change crossed her face. Corinna answered with a voice that was cold, precise, and unforgiving, "The proof of your embezzlement, along with evidence tied to what happened to my parents and to me, has already been submitted to the authorities. Whether it is slander or not will be decided by the police."

Holding his gaze without flinching, she continued, "You can keep shouting here if you want, or you can surrender yourself. That is the only choice that might lessen what comes next."

Desperation drove Nigel forward as he planted both hands on the table, his eyes burning with panic. "I did nothing wrong! All of this is slander!"

Panic pushed his voice into a shrill pitch. "You're setting me up because you want my position. You want the CEO chair!"

An indifferent look met his accusation. Corinna responded with nothing more than a glance before raising her hand in a relaxed motion. At once, her bodyguards stepped forward. They gripped Nigel's arms and yanked him to his feet, dragging him toward the exit.

"Release me! I'm the CEO!" he shouted, thrashing wildly.

Unmoved by his struggle, the guards continued without pause. They pulled him from the boardroom, and his shouting echoed down the corridor until the doors closed and silence settled at last.

Only after that did Corinna move to the seat at the head of the table. She lifted her eyes and surveyed the board members one by one, her demeanor composed and authoritative. "This company was built by my parents," she said evenly. "As their legal successor, all of their shares belong to me, which makes me the largest shareholder of Walsh Group."

After a measured pause, she delivered the final word. "Effective immediately, I will be assuming full control of the company."

Inside the CEO's office at Spencer Group, Vincent cut the call the instant it went straight to voicemail. A crease formed between his brows as irritation sank deeper, dark and unsettled.

The block was still there.

Seven full days had gone by, and Corinna had disappeared as if she had never existed. Since their marriage, she had never stayed out of his reach for this long.

Back then, regardless of how distant he was, she would always edge closer. Even when his words were sharp, she stayed nearby with cautious hope, eyes gentle, lingering beside him desperate for approval.

This time, she had left with another man.

The audacity of it made his expression turn cold.

Calling his assistant in, Vincent spoke without preamble. "Have you located Corinna?"

Tension tightened the assistant's voice as he answered, "No. There's nothing left to trace. Someone used advanced methods to completely erase her records."

A sharp chill settled into the room as Vincent's jaw locked.

After a brief hesitation, the assistant added, "There's more. The Walsh family's heiress has resurfaced."

Surprise flickered across Vincent's face. "Didn't she die three years ago?"

With careful detail, the assistant laid out everything he had uncovered. "Following the explosion, she vanished completely. For three years, no one could find her, and most people believed she was dead. Then she appeared at the shareholder meeting. The moment she returned, she overturned her uncle Nigel's decisions and revealed years' worth of evidence proving his embezzlement. He was forced to relinquish control to her. Since then, she's been restructuring the group's internal systems, and by all accounts, the results have been impressive."

Against the surface of the desk, Vincent's long fingers tapped once, then again. "Decisive."

It was the first time the assistant had ever heard approval in Vincent's voice. He straightened immediately. "We previously partnered with Walsh Group. But once Nigel took charge, several projects were put on hold because of quality issues and cost-cutting. Now that the new CEO has stepped in… should we revive that collaboration?"

Nothing about Vincent's expression gave him away. When he spoke, his tone was calm, steady, and firm. "Arrange a meeting with her. I want to negotiate face-to-face."

Market demand in the city of Kiepwell was massive, and expansion there promised substantial returns. Among all possible partners, only Walsh Group had the capacity to take on those projects without collapsing under the weight.

After the assistant left, Vincent remained seated, staring at the piles of documents spread across his desk, unable to absorb a single line on the page.

Restlessness had taken hold of him ever since Corinna walked away, leaving him wound tight with an unnamed pressure that refused to loosen its grip on his chest. She had always followed his lead, always given him her loyalty, yet she had thrown divorce papers at him and vanished with some unknown man.

Could everything she once showed him have been nothing more than an act?

Until his signature touched that agreement, she remained his wife. He had no intention of letting her slip free so easily, as if she had never belonged in his life, or fall into another man's arms without consequence. No distance would be far enough to keep her hidden from him.

In frustration, Vincent tugged loose his tie, poured himself a glass of vodka, and downed it in one harsh swallow. Fire scorched his throat, and the tension refused to ease, only stoking the heat already coursing through his veins.

Redness ringed his eyes when the assistant reappeared without warning.

"Mr. Spencer, the news about you and Ms. Palmer is spreading everywhere online," the assistant said carefully. After a brief pause, he added, "You may want to see it for yourself."

A frown creased Vincent's brow as he opened the link that was sent to him, and his expression grew darker with each passing second.

"CEO Vincent Spencer's Intimate Getaway with Margot Palmer Fuels Divorce and Reunion Rumors."

Beneath the bold headline sat a series of crisp, high-definition images.

Each photo showed Vincent in a sleek black suit, standing close to a woman with gentle features and immaculate makeup. As he leaned toward her, the sharpness that usually defined his expression faded into something unexpectedly gentle. Whatever he said made her lower her gaze and smile shyly, her lips curved with quiet sweetness.

Once the article spread across social media, the reaction exploded instantly.

"I heard Vincent and Margot were childhood sweethearts. Of course, he never moved on."

"Let's be real. His wife is just an orphan. If he hadn't been in a coma and she hadn't lucked into it, there's no way she would've married him. She was never worthy of him."

"Exactly. Margot is the real deal. She's a piano prodigy, practically nobility in the classical music world. That other woman is just baggage. They should've divorced a long time ago."

Tension locked Vincent's jaw as fury darkened his gaze, and the atmosphere around him turned cold.

"Take it all down," he said flatly. "Every last bit. I want it gone within the hour."

"Understood, sir."