The Blind Wife's Revenge

Chapter 4: Their Celebration

The chill of the hospital floor seemed to creep up Seraphina’s spine, but she remained motionless behind the heavy wooden door until Dr. Evans’ hushed, frantic footsteps finally faded down the corridor.

If she remembers that night, we're all finished.

The words echoed inside her mind, cold and sharp. She leaned her head against the cool doorframe, her teeth pressing tightly against her inner lip. They hadn't just taken advantage of her blindness after the crash—they had arranged it.

The brake failure, the tragic accident, the three years spent in total darkness... every single moment had been calculated by the man who held her hand every night and called her his soulmate.

Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. The quiet, gentle girl who had trusted Adrian Blackwood implicitly had died three years ago on that winding mountain road. The woman standing in this sterile room was a survivor, and survivors did not weep for traitors.

An hour later, the heavy door clicked open again.

Seraphina was already back in bed, lying motionless beneath the thin blanket. Her eyes were lightly closed, her breathing slow and shallow.

"Sweetheart?"

Adrian’s voice drifted across the room, smooth and warm. He crossed the floor with easy, measured strides, the familiar scent of his expensive woodsy cologne filling the air. He sat on the edge of the mattress, the mattress dipping under his weight, and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

Seraphina forced her muscles to stay relaxed, hiding the sharp shudder that threatened to run down her body at his touch.

"Adrian," she murmured, letting her eyelids open just a fraction—enough to look utterly unfocused, gazing past his shoulder at the blank wall behind him. "You came back."

"Of course I came back," he said softly, running his thumb along her jawline in a gesture that used to make her heart melt. Now, it made her stomach churn with pure revulsion. "I hated leaving you alone today, especially after what the doctor said."

"Dr. Evans was here," Seraphina said, keeping her tone small and fragile. "He told me... he said the damage is permanent. He said I'll never see again."

Adrian let out a heavy, dramatic sigh, placing his hands over hers. His expression was a masterclass in tragic heartbreak—his brow furrowed, his eyes dark with apparent sorrow.

"I know, my love. I spoke with him in his office," Adrian said, his voice thick with fake emotion. "It breaks my heart to hear it, Seraphina. But you have to remember that nothing changes between us. I will be your eyes for the rest of our lives. I will take care of you."

You will keep me locked in the dark for the rest of my life, she thought bitterly.

"You're so good to me," Seraphina whispered, offering him a small, weak smile. "What would I do without you?"

"You'll never have to find out," Adrian replied smoothly. He glanced down at his gold wristwatch, a brief flash of impatience crossing his features before his expression smoothed back into tender concern. "Listen, sweetheart... I have to step out again tonight. An urgent emergency came up with the overseas investors. A critical contract needs my signature, or Blackwood Enterprises could lose millions."

"Tonight?" Seraphina asked, letting a trace of disappointment slip into her voice. "Can't it wait until morning?"

"I wish it could," Adrian said, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her hair. "I hate leaving you, especially tonight. But this deal is for our future, Seraphina. Once this goes through, I can take a leave of absence and spend every single day with you."

"All right," she said softly, nodding. "Go ahead, Adrian. Business comes first. I'll just try to sleep."

"That's my understanding girl," he murmured, patting her hand. "I'll have the night nurse bring you something to help you sleep deeply. Don't wait up for me."

He stood up, adjusted his suit jacket, and strode out of the room.

The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind him, Seraphina threw off the thin hospital blanket. She sat up, her eyes wide and sharp in the dim light of the room.

Don't wait up for me.

He wasn't going to an emergency business meeting with overseas investors. She knew it down to her very bones.

Seraphina waited five agonizing minutes, listening to the rhythmic hum of the hospital corridor outside. When she was certain the hallway was temporarily clear, she slid out of bed and stepped toward the small closet where her personal belongings had been stored.

She pulled out a long, oversized black cardigan, throwing it over her hospital gown, and wrapped a soft gray silk scarf around her head, pulling it low over her forehead to obscure her face. She slipped her feet into her flat leather shoes.

Moving with absolute silence, she cracked open her room door.

The corridor was quiet. At the end of the hall near the nurses' station, two staff members were leaning over a computer terminal, their backs turned to her.

Seraphina stepped out into the hallway, keeping her head down, her movements fluid and purposeful. She didn't use a cane. She didn't stumble. For three years, she had memorized the layout of this wing in absolute darkness; seeing it now only made navigating the hallways effortless.

She took the service stairs down to the main lobby, avoiding the glass elevators.

The ground floor of the private clinic was illuminated by warm, ambient lights. Through the grand glass double doors at the entrance, she saw a sleek black Mercedes sedan idling in the VIP driveway.

Standing beside the passenger side was Adrian.

He wasn't wearing his suit jacket anymore. He had unbuttoned his top collar, looking relaxed and buoyant. Opening the passenger door with grand flair, he helped a woman step out into the evening cool.

Cassandra.

She was wearing a stunning, form-fitting crimson evening dress that dazzled under the streetlights. Her laughter echoed lightly across the quiet courtyard as she wrapped her arms around Adrian's neck, pulling him down into a playful kiss right beside the car.

Adrian didn't pull away. He laughed, tossing his head back, his arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her tight against his side. There was no trace of the exhausted, grieving husband who had been sitting by Seraphina's bed an hour ago. He looked alive, victorious, and utterly free.

Seraphina stood behind a wide marble pillar near the lobby entrance, her hand resting flat against the cold stone. Her face was completely calm, but her jaw was set like iron.

She watched as Adrian led Cassandra through the private entrance toward the clinic's top-floor executive suite—a luxury private lounge reserved exclusively for high-profile donors and board members.

Seraphina followed them at a safe distance, taking the rear service elevator up to the top floor.

The top floor was quiet, carpeted in deep navy wool that muffled her footsteps. Soft piano music drifted from the semi-open doors of the VIP lounge at the end of the hall.

Seraphina moved silently down the corridor, stopping just outside the cracked wooden double doors. She peered through the narrow opening.

Inside, soft crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over a private dining table set with white linen, red roses, and a bottle of vintage champagne sitting in a silver ice bucket.

Adrian lifted two crystal flutes, handing one to Cassandra.

"To us," Cassandra said, her voice dripping with triumphant satisfaction as she clinked her glass against his. "To the end of the waiting."

"To us," Adrian agreed, his eyes fixed on her. "Everything is set. The final transfer papers for the Laurent family holdings will be executed by Monday. By next week, Blackwood Enterprises will own every asset her father left behind."

"And Seraphina?" Cassandra asked, taking a slow sip of champagne. "What are you going to do with her?"

Adrian sneered slightly, setting his glass down on the table. "She's blind, helpless, and completely dependent on me. She'll sign whatever divorce settlement I put in front of her without reading a single word. I'll give her a tiny stipend, place her in a quiet estate in the countryside, and she'll spend the rest of her life thinking I'm a saint for not abandoning her completely."

Cassandra giggled, leaning against his chest. "You really are ruthless, Adrian. I love it."

"I only do what's necessary for what we deserve," Adrian murmured, sliding his hand into his inner coat pocket. He pulled out a small, square velvet box covered in dark navy suede.

Cassandra's eyes widened in delight. "What is that?"

"I promised you three years ago that once everything was in our hands, I would give you what was rightfully yours," Adrian said softly.

He popped the velvet box open.

Inside sat an exquisite, antique platinum ring featuring a rare cushion-cut blue sapphire surrounded by diamonds.

Seraphina’s breath caught in her throat.

That ring was her mother's heirloom—the Laurent family ring that her father had passed down to her before he died. Adrian had taken it three years ago under the pretense of keeping it safe in a bank vault while she was recovering from the accident.

"It's breathtaking," Cassandra whispered, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out.

"It belongs on your finger now," Adrian said. He took her hand, sliding the sapphire ring onto Cassandra’s ring finger. "A symbol of the life we're about to build together."

Cassandra threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply as the sapphire caught the soft light of the chandelier, sparkling brilliant blue against her skin.

Seraphina stood outside in the dark hallway, watching the two people who had destroyed her life celebrate their victory with her mother's ring.

A cold, absolute calm settled over her soul. The pain, the betrayal, the grief—it all crystallized into something hard, sharp, and unbreakable.

She didn't shed a single tear. She reached into her cardigan pocket, pulled out her small phone, and quietly took a sharp, clear photo through the crack in the door, capturing Adrian slipping her mother's ring onto Cassandra's finger.

Seraphina stepped back into the shadows of the hallway, her expression unreadable.

"Enjoy the celebration, Adrian," she whispered softly into the empty corridor, her voice as smooth as ice. "Because every single thing you took from me... you're going to pay back in blood."