Chapter 6
1352 Words
Vont swallowed hard, a thick weight settling in his throat as he stared at the unconscious woman. Something was wrong—terribly wrong—but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His heartbeat was too loud, his thoughts too scattered. He stepped closer to the hospital bed, his gaze tracing the features he had memorized all his life.
She looked exactly like Alyanna.
The shape of her nose, the gentle arch of her brows, the curve of her lips—everything was identical. But something deep inside him tugged, insisting that the woman lying there was not Alyanna Martinez.
His instincts had never failed him before, especially not where Alyanna was concerned.
Alyanna was Alfonso Martinez’s one and only daughter. The millionaire had never remarried after his wife died, never entertained the thought of another woman. He was loyal to his late wife until the end. That meant Alyanna had no sisters. No secret daughters. No long-lost twins.
So who was the woman lying in this bed?
The nurse had already stepped out, leaving Vont alone with his spiraling thoughts. Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the steady beeping of the heart monitor.
Vont slowly approached the bed, hesitating for a moment before finally standing at the woman’s side. Up close, the familiarity was even more unnerving. Her lashes—the same length. Her skin—the same tone. Her hair—the same waves.
But still… something didn’t fit. A feeling clawed at him, refusing to let him accept this as Alyanna.
“This isn’t her,” he whispered under his breath.
He didn't know how he knew. He just did.
But then the nurse’s words replayed in his mind.
The woman in the other car… she was dead on arrival.
His hands curled into fists.
What if—just what if—the nurse was mistaken? What if the woman who died… was actually Alyanna?
His stomach twisted.
“No,” he muttered harshly. “No, no, that’s not what happened.”
If Alyanna had died, Alfonso Martinez would kill him. Not figuratively—literally. The man was powerful and ruthless. He had always trusted Vont to protect his daughter, and Vont had always done exactly that.
Until now.
He forced himself to look at the woman again, convincing himself desperately.
“This is Alyanna,” he said under his breath, as if the words would make it true. “She’s fine. She’s alive. This is her.”
Because if she wasn’t… everything would fall apart.
He pulled a chair beside the bed and sat, hands clasped together as he waited anxiously for the woman to wake up. He had to be the first person she saw. He had to confirm who she really was before Alfonso Martinez arrived.
Time stretched painfully. Every second weighed heavy on his chest.
But soon, the door burst open.
Vont stood up instantly.
Alfonso Martinez entered the room with surprising speed for a man his age. His expression was a storm—dark eyes filled with fury, jaw clenched as if he had been holding back shouts the entire way to the hospital.
Behind him was Vont’s father, who looked both worried and resigned. He knew what was about to happen.
Alfonso didn’t waste a second. He marched straight toward Vont—and slapped him across the face.
The sound echoed sharply through the room.
Vont staggered slightly, but he didn’t retaliate. Didn’t lift a hand to protect himself. He simply bowed his head, accepting it.
He deserved it.
“How could you let this happen?!” Alfonso roared.
“I’m sorry…” Vont whispered, shame burning through him.
“Sorry?!” Alfonso slapped him again. “You almost killed my daughter!”
Each word felt like a punch.
Vont’s father stayed behind Alfonso, watching helplessly. He was also an employee of Alfonso Martinez—just like Vont. They were both under the wealthy man’s mercy.
A third slap landed, then a fourth. Alfonso’s strikes weren’t just fueled by anger—they were fueled by fear. Fear for his daughter.
Still, Vont remained silent. He had no excuses. He had failed to protect Alyanna.
Finally, the doctor rushed inside.
“S-Sir!” the doctor exclaimed, immediately placing himself between them. “P-please stop. He’s also injured. Additional trauma might worsen his condition—”
“Shut up!” Alfonso snapped. “Just check my daughter!”
The doctor swallowed hard. No one wanted to offend the richest man in the city—not even for the sake of medical safety. But the doctor also couldn’t stand there and watch Vont get beaten senseless.
The old man reluctantly stepped back. Vont touched his cheek—numb from all the blows—but kept his head down.
The doctor approached the woman in the bed, checking her vital signs and adjusting the equipment attached to her. He took longer than usual, perhaps to calm himself or to ensure he wouldn’t be scolded later.
Finally, he exhaled and turned to Alfonso.
“She’s stable, sir,” the doctor said. “We just need to wait for her to wake up. Her vitals are strong, and there are no signs of internal bleeding.”
Relief washed over Alfonso for a brief moment, softening the tension in his face. But it was quickly replaced by suspicion as he stared at Vont again.
“What exactly happened?” the old man demanded.
Vont stood still, avoiding eye contact.
“The other driver… swerved into us,” he answered. “It was too sudden. I couldn’t avoid the collision.”
“And the other driver?”
The doctor spoke up. “The woman in the other vehicle was pronounced dead on arrival, sir.”
The room fell silent.
Alfonso exhaled sharply. “Good. As long as my daughter is alive.”
Vont flinched.
The way he said good froze something inside him. As if the life of the other woman meant nothing. As if her death was simply a footnote.
But Vont wasn’t thinking about that—he was thinking about Alyanna.
And the woman in the bed.
His doubts churned again.
Something was off.
Something didn’t add up.
But for now, he couldn’t say a word—not with Alfonso Martinez here.
The old man turned to the doctor. “Call me the moment she wakes up.”
Then he glared at Vont. “And you—you better pray she’s truly fine. If anything happens to my daughter… I will ruin you. Both you and your father.”
Vont’s father stiffened behind him.
“Yes, sir,” Vont murmured.
Alfonso left with heavy footsteps, silencing the entire hallway as he walked. His presence commanded fear, respect—and a warning.
When the door finally closed, Vont exhaled shakily.
His father stepped forward.
“Why didn’t you defend yourself?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Vont replied quietly. “As long as he believes Alyanna was in danger, he’ll kill anyone who stands in the way.”
His father sighed. “Just… be careful. This situation could ruin us both.”
“I know.”
His father left shortly after, leaving Vont alone once again in the quiet room.
He looked at the woman.
The woman who looked exactly like Alyanna.
He stepped closer, studying every detail—the faint freckles near her hairline, the shape of her lips when relaxed, the way her hands rested on the blanket.
She looked like Alyanna.
She felt like Alyanna.
But his heart—his heart was screaming that she wasn’t.
“Who are you…?” he whispered.
“And if you’re not Alyanna… then where is she?”
Questions twisted his thoughts into knots. The nurse said the other woman had died instantly. Did that mean the real Alyanna was gone?
Was this woman a stranger who just happened to share her face?
Or was fate playing a twisted game?
He stood there for a long time, staring at the unconscious woman, feeling the first spark of fear take root in his chest.
Something was wrong.
Something was terribly wrong.
- Writer
