'I Do' For Revenge-Chapter 89: I’m The Victim

~AXEL~

I leaned back in the car seat, rubbing my temples as the city blurred past. The video call with suppliers had dragged on longer than expected, hashing out details for Eclipse Beauty’s international rollout.

Orders were rising again, over 130,000 now, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Layla driving home alone. That red-dot photo was still fresh in my mind.

I pulled out my phone and texted her: On my way. Everything okay?

No response. She’s probably asleep, or busy with something and not with her phone.

But then, my phone rang, shattering the quiet. It was one of the security’s numbers. I answered immediately. "What?"

"Sir, it’s about Mrs. O’Brien. There’s been an accident. She’s at St. Mary’s Hospital."

The world tilted. "What? Is she okay? What happened?"

"Car crash on the main road. We’re outside the hospital now, but the paramedics have taken her into the ER. Details are sketchy, but another vehicle was involved."

"Turn around," I barked at the driver. "St. Mary’s. Now."

The car swerved into a U-turn, tyres screeching on the asphalt. My heart hammered against my ribs, thoughts racing in a thousand directions.

Not Layla. She had to be fine. I couldn’t lose her... not after everything we’d built, not when she was finally mine in ways that mattered beyond our contract.

I dialled the hospital hotlines, demanding updates, but they stonewalled me with privacy protocols until I could arrive in person.

"Drive faster," I told the driver.

The fifteen-minute drive felt like hours. When we finally pulled up to the ER entrance, I didn’t wait for the car to fully stop before jumping out.

"Mr. O’Brien!" I shouted at the reception desk, flashing my ID. "My wife was brought in, Layla O’Brien. Where is she?"

The receptionist looked at her computer, which was frustratingly slow. "Room 247, second floor. But sir, you need to..."

I was already running toward the elevators, ignoring her protests. A nurse intercepted me on the second floor, speaking in a professionally calm voice.

"Mr. O’Brien? I’m Nurse Patterson. Your wife is stable. Just some minor cuts, and bruising. The impact knocked her unconscious from shock, but the CT scans are clear, there are no internal bleeding, and fractures."

"So she’s okay?"

"She’s stable. We’re monitoring her closely. She just needs to wake up, which should happen soon."

"Take me to her."

She led me down the hall, and with each step, my chest tightened further. When we reached the room and I pushed through the door, the sight nearly brought me to my knees.

Layla was lying there, looking pale against the bright white sheets. There was a bandage on her forehead, and the monitors next to her were beeping steadily, keeping track of her vitals.

She looked so small, fragile and different from the strong woman who had been right by my side at the launch just a few hours earlier.

I sank into the chair beside her bed, taking her hand in mine. It was cold. I disliked the temperature.

"Hey," I whispered, squeezing gently. "You have to wake up, okay? We still have so much to do together. We still have our plans to ruin Cassandra, and build our empire. I need you here, fighting with me."

My thumb traced circles on her knuckles, a familiar gesture that now felt desperate.

"You’re stronger than this. Come back to me."

I brushed her hair back from her face, careful of the bandage. "I can’t do this without you, Layla. None of it means anything if you’re not here."

The minutes stretched. I watched her chest rise and fall, counting each breath as if it were a prayer. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only twenty minutes, I forced myself to step out, needing answers to what had happened.

The security guards stood in the hall with grim expressions on their faces. Seeing them stirred up the anger I had been trying to hold back.

"What the hell happened?" I demanded. "You were supposed to follow her!"

The lead guard, Miles or something, stepped forward. "Sir, we were right behind her. The other car came out of nowhere and deliberately rammed her twice. We couldn’t get between them in time."

"And why was she driving alone? Why didn’t you insist on chauffeuring her?"

"She said she wanted to drive herself, sir. We followed protocol..."

"Protocol?" My fist clenched. "Protocol got my wife hospitalised!"

Before I could think, I swung, my fist connecting with Miles’ jaw. He staggered backwards but didn’t fight back; he just stood there, taking it.

"You had one job... protect her! One goddamn job!"

"Sir!" Nurses rushed over, hands grabbing my arms. "Calm down!" 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

I shook them off, breathing hard, my knuckles throbbing. "Who was the other driver?"

Miles worked his jaw, probably checking if it was broken. "Cassandra Hart, sir. She’s in a room down the hall. She’s claiming it was an accident and that Mrs O’Brien swerved into her."

"Bullshit." The word came out as a snarl. "This was intentional. Nothing is an accident when it involves that piece of shit," I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. "Have you called the police?"

"They’re here taking statements. But sir—"

"Where is she? Where’s Cassandra?"

Another guard pointed down the hall. "Room 253. The police are with her, and she’s..."

I was already walking. Nurses called after me, but I ignored them. When I reached Cassandra’s room, the door was partially open. I could hear her voice, that whining, manipulative tone I’d come to despise.

I shoved the door open. Cassandra lay in bed, bandaged, surrounded by doctors and two police officers. She looked up as I entered, and her expression shifted to theatrical fear.

"It was her!" she wailed, pointing at me as if I were the threat. "Officer, that’s her husband! She attacked me! Look what she did to my baby!"

"Your baby?" I shot back, moving into the room. "We all know you’re lying, Cassandra. This was revenge for last night, and you’ll pay for it."

"She swerved into me! I have witnesses!"

"Bullshit! Her security detail was right behind her and saw exactly what happened; you deliberately rammed her car twice!"

One of the officers stepped forward. "Sir, I need you to calm down."

"Calm down? She tried to kill my wife!"

"That’s not what happened!" Cassandra screamed. "I’m the victim here! She’s been harassing me for weeks, stealing my business, and sabotaging me. This was her trying to hurt me and my baby! And she did."

I lunged forward, but hands grabbed me—the officers, holding me back. "You’re going to prison for this! Attempted murder!"

"Sir, step outside now, or I’ll have you removed from the hospital."

"She’s lying! Check the security footage! Check her phone records! She planned this!"

"We’re investigating, but you need to leave. Now."

They were physically pushing me toward the door when I heard a soft, strained, but unmistakable voice.

"Axel?"

I turned, and there she was, standing in the doorway in a hospital gown, one hand braced against the frame for support, the other holding her IV stand. Layla.

"Oh, thank God." I broke free from the officers and was at her side in seconds. "You’re awake. Are you okay?"