My brother's Wife - A billionaires obsession

Please don’t tell my husband I’m alive,” she said, her voice hoarse and exhausted. The room fell into stunned silence. Everyone stood frozen, staring at the skinny, broken-looking woman on the hospital bed—jet-black hair chopped unevenly, skin pale, body frail as if a strong wind could snap her in half. She had been in a coma for eight days, and the first thing she did upon waking was beg them to hide her recovery from the man who was supposed to love her. “He thinks I’m dead,” she whispered. “Let him keep thinking that. If he knows—if he finds out… he won’t let me go. He never does.” Eric Wayne studied her for a long moment. He had found her half-dead in the parking lot of his company. Broken. Bleeding. Alone. He had saved her life without knowing her name, and now she was asking for something reckless. Dangerous. Absurd. His gaze flicked from the woman on the bed to the doctor before settling back on her. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice heavy, as though he were already weighing the consequences. She hesitated. Even that felt like a risk. “…Kara.” “Who is your husband, Kara?” Eric asked calmly. She swallowed, her head throbbing painfully. It was hard to open up to strangers, but she had no choice. This was the only way out. And the man questioning her—the tall, godlike figure in a perfectly tailored suit—had saved her life. “My husband is Harris Wayne,” she said slowly. She watched his expression change. A muscle ticked in Eric’s jaw. It had been a long time since he’d heard that name. Harris Wayne. His estranged half-brother. His sworn enemy. A slow, dangerous smile tugged at Eric’s lips. What a small world. Who would have thought his brother’s wife would be the one begging him to fake her own death? Opportunity knocked once. And Eric Wayne never ignored it. He stroked his jaw, eyes dark as he looked down at Kara. “Alright, little lady,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll help you.” Turning to the doctor, Eric said calmly, “Falsify your report. As far as you’re concerned, this woman is dead.” The doctor froze. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Wanted to say something about ethics, about licenses, about prison. Instead, his mouth opened and no sound came out. He glanced at the woman on the bed. Then back at Eric. Slowly, he nodded. He knew what this meant. He knew what he was risking. But no one in this city crossed Eric Wayne and walked away untouched. Not when he was the heir to the Wayne fortune. Not when he was the most powerful man in the room. The doctor swallowed hard and said quietly, “I’ll… take care of it.”