In the master bedroom, the atmosphere was silent yet tense. Serena Jackson lay on the bed, her face pale, lips dry, and breathing labored as if she had just recovered from a serious illness.
A private nurse, specially called in, was replacing the IV in Serena’s arm. In the corner of the room, Hunter Jackson stood still, his back against the wall. His eyes were fixed sharply on his wife, but there was no worry in them—only suspicion.
Serena glanced weakly at her husband. “Hunter… I really don’t feel well. The doctor said my blood pressure dropped drastically. I might… need more attention…”
Hunter didn’t move from his spot. He only let out a slow breath. “Serena, stop this.”
Serena feigned surprise. “What do you mean? I’m sick… why are you talking to me like that?”
Hunter stepped forwar
