Chapter 17

I was finally discharged from the hospital.

I was free to go home.

But somehow, I didn't feel relieved.

It was still just me and Cole. Mum and Chloe were waiting for me back at the estate, but in this moment, as I pushed the hospital sheets off and swung my legs over the side of the bed, it was just the two of us.

Cole leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with his usual unreadable expression. Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses and a cap. He held them out to me.

"You're going to need these," he said.

I hesitated before taking them. The glasses were designer—sleek, dark, expensive. The cap was plain black and simple.

I frowned. "Why? Is it sunny outside?"

"No." His lips twitched slightly. "It's crowded outside."

I stilled.

Crowded?

"And why exactly would it be crowded?"

Cole tilted his head, his grey eyes gleaming with something unreadable—something that made me nervous.

"Because I may or may not have leaked the CCTV footage to the press," he said, voice calm, almost amused.

I froze.

"You what?"

"Huge crowd of reporters are outside right now," he said, like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. "And quite a few… interested others. They're all waiting for the poor, tragic heiress to be discharged after her terrifying brush with death at the hands of the horrible Caldwells."

I scowled. "You changed the narrative."

"Exactly." Cole shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Public opinion is powerful. I just killed two birds with one stone."

My frown deepened.

This wasn't something he had done on a whim. He had been thinking ahead. Moving the pieces before I even realized there was a game being played.

Something cold curled in my stomach.

I looked at him—really looked at him.

His posture was relaxed, his expression perfectly composed. But his grey eyes were sharper than usual, calculating. Like he was already ten steps ahead of me.

A thought struck me, and before I could stop myself, I voiced it.

"You knew the food was poisoned, didn't you?"

It was a heavy accusation. One that should have made him flinch.

But Cole didn't blink.

His face remained as smooth and unreadable as ever.

"I knew someone would try something," he said simply. His voice was smooth, unshaken. "And I knew I had to be prepared."

Prepared.

I shivered.

So he had known. Maybe not the specifics, but he had been expecting an attack. Anticipating it.

And he had used it to his advantage.

He stepped closer, placing the cap on my head with a gentleness that felt almost mocking. His fingers barely grazed my hair, but I still felt it.

I just stared at him.

At those sharp, unreadable grey eyes.

At the way they looked so deep yet utterly soulless.

"Put them on," he said, handing me the sunglasses. "You'll need them."

I swallowed, still trying to process everything, but I did as he said.

The moment the tinted lenses covered my eyes, it felt like I had put up a barrier between myself and the rest of the world.

Cole stepped back and studied me for a moment, then nodded in approval.

"Brace yourself," he murmured, leading me toward the door.

I followed him in silence, my mind spinning.

*******

The moment I stepped outside, I realized crowded had been a severe understatement.

The hospital entrance was a warzone.

Reporters, photographers, and spectators packed the area, pressing against the barriers security had barely managed to hold up. People were yelling, flashing cameras nearly blinding me, and the buzz of voices blended into an overwhelming roar.

I pushed the sunglasses closer to my eyes, my heart pounding.

Security had formed a narrow path leading to the waiting car, but even with the guards keeping people back, I felt suffocated. The energy in the air was electric—chaotic, hungry.

The moment they spotted me, the shouting intensified.

"Astrid! Over here! Astrid!"

"How do you feel after your near-death experience?"*m

"What are you going to do about Camille Caldwell? She tried to murder you!"

"Will the Caldwells face legal action?"

"Did Paul Caldwell order the hit, or was it just his wife?"

"Do you think there are others involved?"

"Are you afraid for your life?"

I kept walking, head down, Cole's hand resting lightly on my back, guiding me forward.

"Astrid! The people deserve to know—what happens next?"

The people deserved to know? I barely knew what happened next.

"Will you be pressing charges?"

"Does this mean the feud between your family and the Caldwells is officially war?"

"Are you still engaged to Nicholas? Has he contacted you?"

The questions came faster than I could process, reporters shoving microphones in my direction, their voices overlapping into a chaotic mess.

I clenched my jaw and kept moving.

One step. Then another.

I could hear the clicks of cameras, see the flashes even through my tinted lenses. My name was being screamed from every direction, but I forced myself not to react.

Cole opened the car door just as a reporter yelled, "Astrid! Are you out for revenge?"

I paused.

Just for a second.

Then I lowered myself into the car, letting Cole shut the door behind me.

The noise outside didn't stop. If anything, it grew louder, more desperate, but I barely heard it anymore.

Cole slid into the driver's seat and started the engine.

I let out a slow breath, my hands still ice cold in my lap.

He didn't say anything.

Neither did I.

Because I knew the answer to that last question.

And something told me Cole did too.