Chapter 12
1980 Words
For weeks, Anya Margo had lived two lives.
To everyone in the Anguer mansion, she was still the quiet blind maid who moved through the house with remarkable confidence.
She prepared breakfast.
Organized Miguel's office.
Listened to business conversations.
Argued with her employer.
And occasionally laughed at his ridiculous jealousy.
But behind that ordinary life was another world.
A world of secret files, hidden identities, coded messages, suspicious executives, and dangerous men.
And now, that world was about to collide with Miguel's.
Victor stood inside a dark office overlooking the city.
The curtains were closed.
A single lamp illuminated the desk.
On it lay photographs.
Anya entering the Anguer mansion.
Anya speaking with Miguel.
Anya meeting Christopher.
Anya leaving a medical clinic.
Victor stared at the photographs.
"So," he murmured.
"She can still see."
His assistant nodded.
"Her doctors believe the treatment may restore part of her vision."
Victor's expression hardened.
"Then we don't have much time."
"She has been investigating the financial leaks for months."
"What has she discovered?"
"Enough to be dangerous."
Victor picked up a photograph of Anya.
For years, Anya's blindness had been considered an advantage.
People underestimated her.
They spoke freely around her.
They assumed she couldn't observe them.
They had no idea how carefully she listened.
Now, however, everything was changing.
If her sight returned completely, she could identify people.
Places.
Documents.
Faces.
And Victor couldn't allow that.
"Where is she now?"
"At the Anguer mansion."
Victor stared at the photograph.
"And Miguel?"
"With her."
Victor smiled coldly.
"Then take her."
The assistant hesitated.
"And Miguel Anguer?"
Victor's smile disappeared.
"If he gets in the way..."
He paused.
"Deal with him."
That evening, Anya was in the library.
She was reviewing a collection of documents she had secretly copied from Miguel's files.
Her vision was still weak.
But it was improving.
She could now distinguish shadows and shapes.
Occasionally, she could make out colors.
The world was slowly returning.
She touched the edge of a photograph.
Soon, she might be able to see faces.
She thought about Miguel.
A smile appeared on her lips.
Then she heard footsteps.
She immediately became alert.
The footsteps were unfamiliar.
Too heavy.
Too deliberate.
Anya stood.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
She took one step backward.
The door suddenly opened.
Three men entered.
Anya's heart raced.
"Who are you?"
One of them grabbed her arm.
She fought.
"Let me go!"
Another man covered her mouth.
Anya kicked desperately.
A chair crashed to the floor.
She managed to bite the man's hand.
He cursed.
Anya screamed.
"MIGUEL!"
But before she could call again, a cloth was pressed over her mouth.
A sharp smell filled her lungs.
Her strength disappeared.
The room blurred.
The last thing she heard was the sound of footsteps approaching from the hallway.
Then everything went dark.
Miguel was in his office when he heard the crash.
He immediately stood.
"Anya?"
No answer.
He ran toward the library.
The door was open.
A chair lay on the floor.
Books were scattered everywhere.
The window was open.
And Anya was gone.
Miguel stopped breathing.
"Anya?"
He searched the room.
Nothing.
He ran outside.
"Security!"
Guards rushed toward him.
"Where is she?"
No one answered.
Miguel's voice became terrifyingly calm.
"Where is Anya?"
One guard swallowed.
"We don't know, sir."
Miguel stared at him.
"Find her."
"Yes, sir."
"Now."
The guards scattered.
Miguel returned to the library.
He saw something on the floor.
A small piece of fabric.
Anya's scarf.
He picked it up.
His hands trembled.
For the first time in years, Miguel Anguer felt completely powerless.
Christopher arrived twenty minutes later.
"What happened?"
Miguel looked at him.
"They took her."
Christopher's face changed.
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"You need to call the police."
"I already did."
"Then we wait."
Miguel turned toward him.
"No."
Christopher frowned.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going after her."
"Miguel, you don't know where she is."
"I'll find her."
"How?"
Miguel walked toward his desk.
He opened a hidden compartment.
Inside were confidential company files.
Christopher stared.
"What are you doing?"
"Everything."
He pulled out financial records.
Bank transfers.
Executive communications.
Security reports.
"I'll give up anything they want."
"Your company?"
"Yes."
"Your fortune?"
"Yes."
"Your reputation?"
Miguel looked at him.
"I don't care."
Christopher became silent.
He had never seen Miguel like this.
The arrogant billionaire who had once complained about spilled coffee was gone.
In his place was a man willing to destroy his entire world to save one woman.
Christopher quietly said:
"You love her."
Miguel didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Hours later, Miguel discovered the first clue.
One of his own executives had been communicating with Victor.
The name appeared in a series of encrypted financial records.
Miguel stared at the screen.
"So it was someone inside the company."
Christopher looked over his shoulder.
"Who?"
Miguel gave him the name.
Christopher's expression hardened.
"He's been working for Victor."
"Yes."
"Can we track him?"
Miguel nodded.
"I already did."
A location appeared.
An abandoned warehouse outside the city.
Miguel grabbed his coat.
Christopher stopped him.
"You're not going alone."
"I wasn't planning to."
Meanwhile, Anya woke in darkness.
Her hands were tied.
She was sitting in a chair.
Her head hurt.
She could hear water dripping somewhere nearby.
Footsteps approached.
A door opened.
Victor entered.
Anya recognized his voice.
"Victor."
He smiled.
"So you remember me."
"I remember everything."
"That's unfortunate."
Anya lifted her head.
"Why are you doing this?"
"You've been asking too many questions."
"About the company?"
"About everything."
He walked closer.
"You should have stayed a blind maid."
Anya's expression hardened.
"You underestimated me."
Victor laughed.
"Everyone did."
He leaned closer.
"But that's about to end."
Anya swallowed.
"What do you want?"
"The evidence."
"I don't have it."
"You're lying."
"Then search me."
Victor smiled.
"We already searched the mansion."
Anya froze.
He continued.
"Your secret files."
"The medical records."
"The communications."
"Everything."
Anya's heart sank.
They knew.
They knew about her investigation.
They knew about her treatment.
And perhaps...
They knew about Miguel.
"Where is Miguel?"
Victor smiled.
"Still looking for you."
Anya's heart tightened.
"Leave him alone."
Victor laughed.
"That's the interesting part."
Outside the warehouse, Miguel watched the building.
There were guards everywhere.
Christopher looked at him.
"There's no way you're walking through that front door."
Miguel nodded.
"I know."
He checked his weapon.
Christopher stared.
"You brought a gun?"
Miguel looked at him.
"I brought everything necessary."
"You're willing to risk your life."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Miguel's eyes hardened.
"Because she risked hers for me."
Christopher understood.
"Then let's bring her home."
The rescue began.
Security lights were disabled.
Miguel's team entered through the rear.
A fight broke out.
Men rushed toward them.
Miguel fought his way through.
He wasn't thinking about money.
Or business.
Or consequences.
He was thinking about Anya.
He heard a gunshot.
Then another.
Someone shouted.
Miguel kept moving.
He reached the main building.
A guard attacked him.
Miguel struck him down.
Then another appeared.
Miguel fought him too.
A third man raised a weapon.
Christopher shouted:
"Miguel!"
Miguel turned.
The gun fired.
Christopher pushed him aside.
The bullet struck Miguel's shoulder.
He staggered.
"Miguel!"
"I'm fine."
Blood spread across his shirt.
Christopher stared.
"You're not fine."
"Find Anya."
Inside the room, Anya heard the commotion.
Gunshots.
Shouting.
Footsteps.
Then a familiar voice.
"Anya!"
Her heart stopped.
"Miguel?"
She struggled against the restraints.
"Miguel!"
The door burst open.
Miguel appeared.
Blood covered his shoulder.
His breathing was heavy.
But he was standing.
Anya's eyes filled with tears.
"Miguel!"
He rushed toward her.
"Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine."
"You?"
"I'm fine."
She touched his face.
Then felt the blood.
"You're bleeding."
"It's nothing."
"You're lying."
"I learned from you."
She laughed through her tears.
"You idiot."
He cut the restraints.
Anya stood.
Her legs almost gave way.
Miguel caught her.
"I've got you."
She clung to him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Victor appeared.
"You should have stayed out of this, Anguer."
Miguel turned.
His expression became cold.
"You took her."
Victor smiled.
"She was becoming a problem."
Miguel stepped forward.
"You made one mistake."
"What?"
"You thought she was alone."
Victor raised his weapon.
Miguel moved.
A shot rang out.
Miguel pushed Anya behind him.
Another bullet struck the wall.
Security stormed into the room.
Victor tried to escape.
Christopher tackled him.
The guards restrained him.
It was over.
But Miguel collapsed.
Anya screamed.
"Miguel!"
He fell against her.
Blood covered his shirt.
Anya held him.
"No."
"I'm fine."
"You are not fine!"
She began crying.
"You came for me."
"Of course."
"You could have died."
He looked at her.
"I didn't care."
Anya's tears fell faster.
"Why?"
Miguel struggled to remain conscious.
"Because you're important to me."
"That's not enough."
He smiled weakly.
"You're more than important."
Anya froze.
Miguel whispered:
"I love you."
Her heart shattered.
She held his face.
"I love you too."
Miguel's eyes closed.
"Good."
Then he collapsed.
"MIGUEL!"
The ambulance arrived minutes later.
Anya refused to leave him.
She held his hand the entire time.
Christopher stood nearby.
He watched them silently.
He had hoped Anya might choose him.
But now he understood.
There was no competition anymore.
Anya's heart had already chosen.
Miguel.
The stubborn billionaire.
The jealous fool.
The man who had risked everything for her.
At the hospital, doctors rushed Miguel into surgery.
Anya sat outside.
Her hands were covered in his blood.
She stared at them.
For years, she had believed she needed to protect herself.
She had never expected someone else to risk everything to protect her.
Her secret treatment suddenly seemed less important.
Her fear of being loved for her appearance seemed smaller.
Because Miguel had already seen her at her weakest.
He had loved her before she could see.
He had protected her without expecting anything in return.
And when she had been taken...
He had risked his company.
His fortune.
His reputation.
His life.
Just to bring her home.
Anya began crying again.
Christopher sat beside her.
"He'll be fine."
Anya nodded.
"I know."
"He loves you."
She smiled through her tears.
"I know."
"And you love him."
"Yes."
Christopher smiled sadly.
"Then don't waste another second."
Anya looked at him.
"What do you mean?"
"When he wakes up, tell him everything."
Anya touched her eyes.
"The treatment."
"Yes."
"My sight."
"Yes."
"My past."
"Everything."
She nodded.
"I will."
Hours later, the doctor finally emerged.
"He survived."
Anya covered her mouth.
"He'll need rest, but the bullet missed the major arteries."
Tears of relief filled her eyes.
"Can I see him?"
"In a few minutes."
Anya nodded.
She sat back down.
For the first time since the k********g, she allowed herself to breathe.
The enemy had been stopped.
Victor had been arrested.
Miguel was alive.
And Anya was beginning to see again.
But she knew the biggest revelation had yet to come.
Soon, Miguel would wake.
Soon, Anya would tell him her secret.
And soon, for the first time in years, she would look directly into the eyes of the man she loved.
She wondered what he would look like.
Would he smile?
Would he blush?
Would he pretend not to be emotional?
She laughed softly.
Probably all three.
Then she whispered:
"Come back to me, Miguel."
Inside the hospital room, Miguel slowly opened his eyes.
His first word was barely audible.
"Anya?"
She heard him.
She stood immediately.
"I'm here."
He smiled weakly.
"Good."
She took his hand.
"I'll always be here."
And for the first time, neither of them cared about secrets, rivalry, money, or danger.
They had survived.
Together.
But their story was far from over.
Because Anya's sight was returning.
And when she finally saw Miguel clearly...
She would discover that the face she had imagined for so long was even more beautiful than she had dreamed.
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