Don’t Fall for the Billionaire Lover

Three Days Later...

When Chloe finally woke up again, she found herself in a hospital bed, the world around her blurred and distant. Everything felt heavy, as if she were floating somewhere between a dream and reality.

She remembered only fragments: being trapped with Connor beneath a mountain of collapsing earth, the suffocating darkness pressing in from all directions. When the rocks started to fall, Connor had thrown himself over her, using his body as a shield. He took the brunt of every blow, every crushing weight.

He was hurt-badly.

Pinned down, unable to move, Chloe did the only thing she could think of: she sang. It didn't matter that her voice was off-key and shaky. She just kept singing, again and again, desperate not to let the silence swallow them whole.

At some point, Connor stopped responding.

She could still remember how the terror crept in, how it threatened to consume her. She kept singing, even as her voice cracked and she felt herself slipping away. She didn't dare stop-because silence meant she was alone.noveldrama

Time lost all meaning. Somewhere in that endless dark, she thought she heard someone calling her name, maybe even Connor's voice-one she hadn't heard in what felt like forever. She didn't know if it was real or just some fever dream before death.

Chloe forced her eyes open.

Faces appeared above her, crowding around the bed.

"Mom, you're finally awake!" Tim's voice broke, and he started sobbing.

"Chloe..."

"Chloe..."

"Little sis..."

Their voices tangled together, washing over her in a wave. Only then did Chloe realize this wasn't a dream. She was alive.

Her mind cleared a little. She fought to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "Where's Connor?"

At the mention of his name, everyone's faces changed. The room fell silent.

Chloe's heart pounded. She didn't know where the strength came from, but she tried to sit up. "What happened to Connor? Tell me. Please, tell me what happened."

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed, ready to burst. She couldn't hold back. "Is he... is he dead?"

"No, no, he's still alive." Ruby, her mother, answered quickly, trying to comfort her. Relief washed over Chloe. Alive-that was enough, for now.

But Chloe was sharp. One look at everyone's faces told her that even if Connor had survived, things weren't good.

"Where is he?" she asked.

Ruby let out a long sigh, watching Chloe carefully. "He's in the ICU."

Half an hour later, Chloe was in a wheelchair, pushed up to the big window outside the intensive care unit. Through the glass, she saw Conno surrounded by machines. His fegs were wrapped in heavy casts, his ribs bandaged. His face was pale and so thin it broke her heart.

He was still fighting for his life.

Chloe felt a sharp ache in her chest. Connor had risked everything to protect her, and here she was-alive and unscathed.

She didn't cry. Instead, she felt a kind of cold, quiet determination settle over her.

Others worried about her. The bond between her and Connor was so deep, people wondered if she could survive losing him, if she'd even want to.

But Chloe refused to believe he'd leave her. She sat by his bed, day and night, talking to him, telling him everything, taking care of him in every way she could.

"Connor, we've been through so much together. It's time for us to have our happy ending..."

Meanwhile, in the ICU room next door, Grant was fighting his own battle. When they'd found him, he was almost buried alive, his body battered and broken. The doctors said he might never wake up, and if he did, he'd likely be disabled for life.

Chloe had visited him twice.

But the universe has a twisted sense of humor. When the mountain collapsed, Hank hadn't been touched. A massive boulder had landed just right, leaving a tiny pocket of space and sparing him from harm.

Chloe knew that for Hank, surviving was its own kind of punishment.

She went to see him in prison, told him everything about Connor, about Grant. She brought him Claire's most treasured keepsake: a little glass bottle with strands of hair inside, tied together with red string in a lover's knot.

She handed it to him with a steady, almost mocking voice. "It's funny, isn't it? She loved you so much that even at the end, she wanted revenge for you, even if it meant trying to kill her own son."

Chloe met Hank's eyes and gave him a small smile. "Why am I even telling you this? You know it all-you planned it, didn't you? How many times did you sit in the dark, thinking you were some kind of god, pulling all our strings? Well, congratulations. You got what you wanted."

She didn't look back as she left. Behind her, Hank clutched the little glass bottle so tightly his knuckles turned white, his whole body shaking.

Three days later, news came from the prison: Hank was dead. He'd taken a shard from that same glass bottle and cut his own throat, bleeding out before anyone could stop him.

When Chloe heard, she barely reacted. She just sighed.

Still, she told Grant what had happened. Maybe the shock was what finally did it— because soon after, Grant woke up.

Chloe was overjoyed. She hurried to tell Connor, but he still didn't wake.

She wasn't discouraged.

Day after day, Chloe stayed by Connor's side, caring for him, talking to him, never once giving up. From the ICU to a regular hospital room, she was always there-washing him, massaging his limbs, filling the silence with her voice and her hope, waiting for the moment he'd open his eyes.