The Billionaire's Broken, Voiceless Wife
Chapter 3
Lung cancer.
The two words hit her like thunder, shattering her sanity.
She tried to smile, but tears poured down her face.
She had thought that leaving the rehabilitation center meant she could start over. But fate was playing a cruel joke.
"Doctor... how long... do I have?"
"With proper treatment, you might live longer. But the treatment is expensive."
She was silent. Her hands slowly clenched. "Worst... case?"
"Two months."
The doctor's face was sympathetic, but he pressed on. "With good results, there could be a miracle. You should discuss this with your family."
Her expression went blank. "I... have no family."
Her biological parents wanted to sell her. Her adoptive parents despised her. She had no one.
She couldn't afford the hospital bill or even the medication. She owed the hospital money-she would pay it back someday.
Her phone and ID were with Elliot. And her mind, dulled by years of electric shocks, couldn't remember the way back.
Her bad leg throbbed with pain. She could barely walk. She couldn't go back, and no one would lend a phone to a beggar.
She ended up on the streets, sleeping under a bridge, surviving on garbage.
She kept telling herself that Elliot would come looking for her to finalize the divorce.
But she didn't know that everyone thought she had run away to avoid signing the papers.
"Nothing?"
"No, sir. We've searched everywhere-the Rollins house, the Boggs house. No sign of Miss Mcpherson."
Elliot frowned deeply, his eyes flashing with understanding-and disgust.
Of course. Amelia would never cooperate with a divorce.
She had chased him for ten years, refused to leave, even impersonated Elyse and climbed into his bed to marry him. Why would she want a divorce?
Her obedient act on the way here had just been to lower his guard so she could run and hide.
He let out a cold laugh. "Start with her friends. Without her documents, she can't go far."
But three full days passed, and they found nothing.
Elliot grew impatient. He thought of one person and called her.
Clara Vance, Amelia's former best friend.
She screamed into the phone, "Elliot Hardin! Are you even human? You sent Amelia to that place for four years! You're an animal! A bastard! Don't call me!"
"She's with you. Have her come out."
"Are you insane? You think I'm hiding her? Wait-what do you mean? Amelia is missing?"
"Clara, don't play dumb."
"Play dumb, my ass! Elliot, I've held back for years. You were the one who agreed to marry her, then you backed out. You're worse than a-"
"The Vance family business deal is canceled."
She went silent. After a moment, her voice softened. "She's not with me. I swear."
He hung up, his face dark.
Not with the Rollins family, not with the Boggs family, not with Clara. No one in their circle would dare take her in.
She had gotten better at enduring. Better at hiding.
He gave the order: "Contact Westcliff. Once we find her, send her back."
If she wasn't reformed yet, they would keep reforming her.
This was Amelia's fourth day on the streets. She was covered in filth, reeking of garbage, chased away everywhere she went.
She had waited and waited, but Elliot never came for her.
She coughed constantly, day and night. The other homeless people stayed away, afraid she was contagious.
She coughed up mouthful after mouthful of thick, dark blood.
Each breath burned. Every step felt like walking on cotton.
She struggled down the street, asking everyone she saw to borrow a phone. No one would lend one.
She couldn't walk anymore. She collapsed. A kind-hearted college student helped her up.
"Are you okay? Should I take you to a hospital?"
"Can... I borrow... your phone?"
"A phone? Here."
Her trembling hands took it. She dialed the number burned into her bones.
*Ring. Ring.*
"Who is this?"
That cold voice.
Her eyes slowly reddened. Her voice was rough and hoarse. "Elliot... it's me."
"Amelia, you need to-"
"No, that's not... cough, cough, cough-" She started coughing again, and a huge gush of blood sprayed out. The student next to her gasped. "Oh my God, are you okay? You're coughing up blood!"
She felt her body growing cold. A fierce will to live made her beg.
"I'm... sick. Really sick. Can you... lend me some money? Just... three thousand dollars? Please? I'm in so much pain..."
Every organ, every inch of her body ached-a deep, bone-crushing pain.
But on the other end of the line came a laugh-cold and cruel.
"Amelia, using that trick again? Why don't you just die?"
Each word was a knife.
In a daze, she looked up and saw a giant screen playing a news headline:
**[Hardin Group CEO Spends 30 Billion on a Private Estate to Make His Beloved Smile]**
And in her ear, Elliot's merciless voice: "You'd better pray I don't find you. Because if I do, you'll spend the rest of your life in Westcliff."
The line went dead.
And so did the last flicker of hope inside her.
After Elliot hung up, he immediately ordered a trace on the IP address to find her.
"Elliot, what's wrong? Who was that?"
"Business."
He didn't tell her the truth. Elyse's health was fragile. No need to worry her.
"Elliot, I love this estate so much! Thank you!"
"I'm glad you like it."
An estate meant nothing to him.
Years ago, he had been hunted, gravely wounded, at death's door. If Elyse hadn't saved him, he would have died.
He owed her his life.
Then Amelia had stolen the token he left for Elyse and pretended to be his savior, blackmailing him into marriage.
He had thought she was just spoiled and willful. But this proved she was vicious and unforgivable.
Elyse asked tentatively, "Elliot... have you gotten the token back yet?"
He came back to himself. "She hasn't returned it to you?"
Elyse looked troubled, then said softly, "No, not yet. Sister just got out. I feel bad asking. I don't want to upset her. I was going to wait until she's adjusted to life outside. After all, it's the keepsake you left for me."
She looked down shyly, the picture of maidenly modesty.
Elliot said quietly, "You're too kind."
She had stolen the token and impersonated Elyse, and yet Elyse was still considerate of her feelings.
Elyse started to lean toward him. "Elliot, I-"
His phone vibrated.
He answered immediately. The voice on the other end reported:
"Boss, we've found Miss Mcpherson."
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