Chapter 3 - The Agony of Awakening and the First Hidden Twitch
The first week of secret rehabilitation was a descent into hell.
Dr. Bennett could only visit three times a week under the cover of garden maintenance deliveries, which left the daily, grueling physical labor squarely on Tessa’s shoulders.
Every afternoon, while Arya was out lunching with the wives of city councilmen or attending lavish wedding venue tastings, Tessa transformed my locked bedroom into a covert battlefield.
She used heavy resistance bands anchored to the massive four-poster mahogany bedposts. She manually manipulated my hips, knees, and ankles for two hours without stopping, her breath coming in ragged gasps, sweat soaking the collar of her uniform.
“Push against my palm, Vincent,” she commanded on the sixth day. She was kneeling at the foot of the bed, her palms pressed firmly against the soles of my bare feet. “Don't just think about it. Command the muscle. You built an empire with your will. Use it.”
“There’s nothing there, Tessa,” I groaned, sweat dripping down my temples, stinging my eyes. My chest heaved. Every tendon in my neck was strained to the breaking point. “It’s like screaming into a void.”
“Then scream louder!” she snapped, refusing to yield an inch. “Dominic is down at the harbor right now signing off on the north terminal lease. Arya was in the parlor an hour ago looking at samples for your memorial plot. You want to let them put you in the dirt while they pop champagne on your yacht?”
A primal, blinding rage ignited behind my eyes.
I locked my jaw. I pictured Dominic’s smug face. I pictured Arya’s cold, calculating smile as she looked at her reflection while discarding me like garbage.
Move, I ordered my body. Move, you bastard.
I channeled every ounce of fury, every drop of pride, every remnant of the Corvino bloodline into the nerve endings of my lower spine.
In the corner of the room, Dr. Bennett suddenly gasped.
Tessa didn't make a sound, but her eyes widened drastically.
Beneath the warm skin of my right foot, the big toe twitched upward by a fraction of an inch.
It wasn't a spasm.
It was an intentional, commanded contraction.
“Did you see that?” Bennett whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.
“I felt it,” Tessa whispered back. Her hands were shaking against my sole, but she didn't let go. A single drop of sweat fell from her chin onto the blanket. She looked up at me, and for the first time since she had walked into my house, a radiant, fierce smile broke across her tired face. “He’s in there.”
“Again,” I growled, my heart pounding against my ribs like a war drum. “Do it again.”
We worked until six in the evening. By the time we heard the distant purr of Arya’s sports car pulling up the cobblestone driveway, Tessa had hidden the resistance bands inside the air conditioning duct, wiped the floor clean of sweat, and rearranged the blankets over my motionless legs.
When Arya entered the room, smelling of expensive French perfume and white wine, I was lying back against the pillows, pretending to be half-asleep.
“Dominic closed the harbor deal,” Arya announced casually, tossing her purse onto the chair. She didn't come near the bed. She stood by the mirror, admiring her diamond earrings. “The board agreed that given your continued deterioration, it’s best if we expedite the wedding to next month. We need legal continuity for the tax season.”
“Next month,” I murmured, keeping my voice sluggish, mimicking the effects of the sedatives she thought I had taken. “Whatever you think is best, my love.”
She smiled—a thin, victorious smirk that didn't reach her cold eyes.
“Get some rest, Vince. You look terrible.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, Tessa emerged from the en-suite bathroom with a tray of clean water.
May you like
She caught my eye.
Beneath the heavy covers, hidden from every camera and every traitor in the house, my right foot moved again.
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