Chapter 8

I lay in the hospital bed, awaiting the doctor's final verdict.

"Mr. Moore, the fracture in your leg has damaged the nerves. You might never be able to stand again."

As I realized I couldn't control my legs, a creeping fear began to set in.

But I'd been raised with the belief that men should never shed tears easily, so I urged myself to stay strong.

Yet, when the doctor delivered the final blow, my mind went blank.

I still wanted to stand up.

I had spent my life mastering horseback riding, skiing, skydiving, and racing—better than anyone else.

I was always the most celebrated heir among all the families.

I couldn't accept the idea of never standing again.

My emotions surged uncontrollably, and I finally broke down.

I swept everything off the table in a fury, sending fruit rolling everywhere.

I tried to get out of bed but crashed to the floor, the IV needle tearing from my arm and blood spilling out.

I just sat there, numb.

Then, a familiar, comforting scent filled my nostrils. I looked up to see Kate.

She wore no makeup, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail, and her eyes were puffy from tears.

She gently embraced me, and I felt her warmth, which brought me a measure of calm.

With the little strength I had, I clung to her tightly.

I pleaded, "I've got nothing left. Please don't leave me."

Yes, I was begging.

I had given up on pride.

Kate looked at me quietly, her eyes filled with a sadness I couldn't quite grasp.

She said, "Clark, I won't leave you. I'll stay with you through rehab until you're better.

"I've postponed all my work.

"No, I won't be a star anymore. We'll be just a regular couple.

"I'll be with you forever."

My heart warmed at her words.

But then, her next words felt like a dagger to my heart.

"Clark, I just hope you won't hold Vincent responsible. He's powerful, and we can't afford to cross him."

And with that, my heart shattered.

The love I had for her, so deep and self-sacrificing, was crushed by her own hands.