My grip on the heavy receiver tightened.
The panic that had gripped me just moments ago vanished, replaced by a sudden, fiery spike of indignation.
“You froze my bank accounts?” I fired back, completely ignoring his question.
“By what right, Wilder?
Why can’t I access my own money?”
“Answer my question first,” Wilder demanded, his tone hardening.
The background noise of his meeting disappeared entirely, replaced by the hollow quiet of a private room.
“Who is on the phone with you right now?”
“That is none of your business!”
“You are my wife,” he countered, his voice low and dangerously firm.
“Everything concerning you is my business.
I will not ask again, Nyxia.
Who is it?”
The sheer authority in his voice grated against my nerves.
I glared at the wall, my chest heaving.
“It’s Magnus!
Fine?
Are you happy now?”
Silence hung on the line for a fraction of a second.
When Wilder spoke again, the dangerous edge had smoothed out into something much colder.
“What does he want?”
“He wants money,” I snapped, frustration bleeding into my words.
“He’s demanding I transfer my funds to him for some project.
And because of my ‘condition,’ he wants Nova to take over managing my finances.”
“No.” The word left Wilder’s mouth with absolute finality.
“You will not give them a single cent.”
“I can’t anyway!” I shot back.
“Because you locked me out of my own life!
Give me my access back, Wilder.”
“If you need anything, if you want anything, you tell me,” Wilder said, his voice completely unyielding.
“I will buy you whatever you desire.
Clothes, jewelry, a new car, it doesn’t matter.
But as for Magnus and Nova, they will not see a dime of that money.
Tell him I am holding your finances.
Tell him he has to go through me.”
“It’s my money…”
“I will not let them use you again, Nyxia.”
The sentence stopped me cold.
The anger that had been bubbling in my chest instantly evaporated.
I stood there, holding the phone, my mouth slightly parted.
I had fully expected him to mock me, to use the frozen accounts as a way to gloat about his control.
Instead, beneath the dominant commands, there was a fierce, undeniable wall of protection.
He was blocking Magnus from draining my accounts.
He was shielding me from the vultures I hadn’t been able to fend off myself.
For the first time since waking up in the hospital, I realized my fake husband was actively defending me from real danger.
“I…” I swallowed hard, my voice losing its sharp edge.
I stared down at the desk, suddenly feeling completely disarmed.
I let out a small, almost childish huff.
“I want cheesecake, then.”
A low, deep chuckle vibrated through the earpiece.
The sound sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
“Just cheesecake?
Should I buy the entire store for you while I’m at it, wife?”
A small, genuine laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.
The suffocating weight that had been pressing down on me since Magnus called suddenly lifted.
“Just one slice is fine.
Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’ll be home this afternoon,” Wilder promised, his voice turning incredibly soft.
“Wait for me.”
He ended the call.
I slowly lowered the receiver back to its cradle, a strange, lingering warmth fluttering in my chest.
Then, a faint, angry buzzing sound pulled me back to reality.
My cell phone.
It was still sitting on the desk, the call timer still running.
I had completely forgotten Magnus was on the other line.
I picked it up and brought it to my ear.
“Nyxia!
Are you deaf?!” Magnus was practically screaming through the speaker.
“I’ve been calling your name for five minutes!
Where is the transfer?”
The contrast between Wilder’s deep, protective warmth and Magnus’s shrill, greedy demands was jarring.
“I can’t send it,” I said flatly, all the residual energy drained from my voice.
“The money is with Wilder.
My accounts are frozen.
If you need anything, you’ll have to ask him.”
“What?!
You let him take your money?!” Magnus roared, his mask of sweet concern completely shattered.
“You stupid, useless woman!
You promised me those funds!
Get the money back from him right now, or I swear to God…”
A string of vicious curses followed.
He hurled insults at me, calling me incompetent, a burden, a failure.
I closed my eyes.
This wasn’t new.
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
He had done this before the accident, too.
The second I couldn’t provide, he turned into a demon.
How had I ever been so blindly in love with him?
How had I let this pathetic, grasping man convince me he was my world?
Without saying another word, I hit the red button and ended the call.
The silence of the study rushed back in.
I let out a long, heavy sigh, the emotional exhaustion of the morning finally catching up to me.
I reached up and massaged my temples, my head genuinely throbbing.
“Madam?”
I jumped slightly.
The maid was standing near the doorway, her hands clasped nervous in front of her.
She looked at me with deep concern.
“Are you alright?
Is the headache from your memories coming back?”
I lowered my hands, feeling a twinge of awkwardness.
She actually believed I was suffering.
I offered her a tired, fragile smile, leaning into the role she expected.
“Yes…
just flashes.
It’s very exhausting.”
“Please, rest in the living room,” she urged gently.
“I’ll bring you some warm water.”
I let her lead me out of the study, deeply relieved to be away from the acquisition papers and the phone.
The afternoon sun was casting long golden shadows across the living room when the front door finally opened.
Wilder walked in, carrying a pristine white box tied with a ribbon, and a large, breathtaking bouquet of fresh flowers.
He crossed the room and handed both to me.
I took the box, my eyes lighting up at the familiar logo of the cake shop.
“Cheesecake,” I said, a real smile breaking across my face.
Then I looked at the bouquet, confused.
“But I didn’t ask for flowers.”
“I wanted to give them to you,” Wilder said simply.
Before I could process the gesture, he stepped closer.
He cupped the back of my head with one hand, his thumb gently stroking my hair, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead.
Then he kissed my temple.
Then the crown of my head.
His other hand rested warmly against my back, rubbing soothing circles between my shoulder blades.
My breath hitched.
A rush of heat flooded my cheeks.
I stood completely frozen, holding the cake and the flowers, overwhelmed by the sheer tenderness of his touch.
Magnus had never treated me like this.
He had never brought me gifts just because, and he had certainly never held me with such careful, quiet reverence.
“Rest well tonight,” Wilder murmured, his lips brushing against my forehead one last time.
“Tomorrow, we’re going to have our wedding photoshoot.”