"It's you again."
Edmund went still.
"Who are you? And..." She paused, thinking for a moment before continuing. "I can't remember anything."
Edmund frowned. "You don't recall anything at all?"
She shook her head slowly.
Edmund studied her for a moment, lost in thought. The possibility that she had lost her memory had crossed his mind the previous day, but he had hoped he was wrong. Now, however, her words confirmed his suspicion. Her condition was more serious than he had thought.
"I'll go get the doctor."
Before she could say anything else, he stood up and left, carefully closing the door behind him.
"Daniel."
Daniel, who had been standing by on standby, immediately straightened and hurried towards Edmund.
"She's lost her memory."
"Well, I can—" Daniel stopped abruptly as Edmund's words finally registered. His eyes widened. "Wait. She lost her memory?"
Surprise was written all over his face, but after a few seconds, he gradually calmed down.
"Actually, this might be the best outcome."
Edmund's expression darkened.
"It's better for her to lose her memory, which she might eventually regain, than to remain in a vegetative state for the rest of her life," Daniel quickly explained.
Edmund fell silent for a moment, considering his words. Eventually, some of the tension in his expression eased. Daniel had a point.
"Go and examine her. I don't want any more problems."
With that, Edmund turned and walked away.
Daniel watched his retreating figure, his gaze following the tall back that never seemed to bend for anyone. Then, as he recalled Edmund's words, his expression changed.
"Wait a minute! If there's actually another problem, how exactly do you expect me to fix it?!"
Of course, he didn't dare shout those words aloud. He knew better than anyone that if he failed to fix whatever problem arose, he might as well start digging his own grave.
He turned to look at the white door.
"Even while awake, you're already causing my death," he grumbled.
However, he was far too frightened to raise his voice enough to call Edmund back.
With a resigned sigh, Daniel stepped forward and slowly pushed the door open.
---
Edmund walked into his office and headed straight for his desk. He pulled open a drawer and took out a picture frame. It was a family photograph, a picture of six people bound together by blood and memories.
His gaze settled on the baby girl cradled in a woman's arms.
His thumb gently traced the glass over her tiny face.
For a moment, the cold, unyielding man everyone feared seemed to disappear. All that remained was a father lost in memories of the past.
He walked to his chair and sat down, the picture frame resting in his hands.
And then, without warning, his thoughts carried him back to the day his world had nearly fallen apart.
Eighteen years ago...
The hospital corridor was filled with hurried footsteps and anxious voices. Edmund stood outside the delivery room, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. His suit was dishevelled, his hair a mess, and for once, he couldn't bring himself to care about his appearance.
All he could think about was his wife.
His wife had been in labour for hours. What should have been one of the happiest days of their lives had turned into a nightmare when complications arose during delivery.
Then the door opened.
A doctor stepped out, and Edmund immediately approached him.
"How is my wife?"
The doctor hesitated.
That brief pause was enough to make Edmund's heart sink.
"She's lost a dangerous amount of blood. We're doing everything we can, but her condition is critical."
Edmund found himself unable to respond.
He could negotiate million-dollar deals, silence men with a single look, and command an entire room without raising his voice. Yet, standing outside that delivery room, he couldn't do a single thing to protect the woman he loved.
"Save her."
The words came out low and firm, but beneath them lay a desperation he couldn't hide.
"Do everything you can. Money isn't a problem. Whatever you need, I'll provide it. Just save my wife."
The doctor gave a brief nod before returning to the room.
Edmund stood motionless, staring at the closed door.
Wife, you have to survive.
He didn't know how long he stood there before the door finally opened again.
This time, the doctor approached him with a tired smile.
"Your wife is stable. She's out of danger for now."
Edmund closed his eyes.
A breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding escaped him, and for a moment, his legs felt too weak to support him.
"And the baby?" he asked.
"She's alive. A beautiful little girl."
Edmund looked towards the delivery room, his expression softening.
A daughter.
He had a daughter.
When he was finally allowed inside, he found his wife lying exhausted on the bed. Her face was pale, and her eyes were barely open, but she managed a weak smile when she saw him.
He approached her bedside and gently took her hand.
"You scared me," he murmured.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "You look worse than I feel."
A quiet, disbelieving laugh escaped him. Even after everything she had endured, she could still tease him.
He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Don't ever do that to me again."
"I'll try," she whispered.
His gaze shifted to the tiny baby sleeping in the cradle beside her bed. He reached out and carefully brushed a finger against her little hand. Her fingers curled around his, and something inside him softened.
He had faced countless dangers without flinching, but nothing had ever made him feel as helpless as the thought of losing his wife.
Now, looking at the tiny girl who had just entered their lives, he made a silent promise.
He would protect his family.
No matter what it took.
---
Knock. Knock.
The sound pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in."
Edmund returned the frame to the drawer and locked it before reaching for a document on his desk.
Daniel slowly entered the office with a folder in his hand. He stopped two steps away from the desk, watching Edmund cautiously.
Edmund glanced up at him for a few seconds before lowering his gaze to the document.
"What do you want?"
"Well, sir, I examined the girl, and these are the results."
Daniel placed the folder on the desk and immediately took two steps back, as though putting a little more distance between himself and Edmund might save his life.
"I couldn't determine the exact cause of her memory loss, but I did discover something else."
Edmund stopped reading.
He opened the folder and began examining the documents. His expression remained unreadable, but when he heard Daniel's next words, his eyes lifted.
Daniel swallowed.
"There were signs of untreated injuries and long-term bruising. Based on their appearance, they suggest that she may have suffered physical abuse over an extended period."
The atmosphere in the room changed.
The temperature seemed to drop, and the silence grew heavy.
Daniel didn't need to look around to know where the sudden chill was coming from.
"Continue."
Edmund's voice was low.
Too low. Too cold.
Daniel's hair stood on end. He swallowed again, forcing himself to continue despite the growing pressure in the room.
"They're signs of long-term abuse, sir."