Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

Davis alighted from the airplane, his steps urgent, almost breaking into a run, while Ethan hurried after him, dragging their luggage and struggling to keep up.

Frantically, Davis dialed on his phone as he moved toward the exit, frustration bubbling within, fear threatening to swallow him whole, his gaze locked firmly on the glowing screen.

He bumped into several passersby without stopping to apologize, not even sparing them a glance. Ethan, left in his wake, was forced to smooth things over, apologizing quickly while still managing their luggage.

In all the years he had worked with Davis, he had never seen him this rattled, this consumed by unease.

At some point, Ethan couldn't help but wonder…had something truly gone wrong?

With his boss furiously making calls, walking faster and faster, he had no time to stop and check the updates for himself.

Davis dialed several numbers of his subordinates, but none of them answered. Jessica's line too remained unreachable. Each failed attempt felt like another stone pulling him under. His chest tightened—his heart drowning in dread.

Outside, their driver, already called ahead by Ethan before they boarded, pulled up beside them. Davis slipped into the back seat at once while Ethan loaded the luggage. The car peeled away from the airport.

"What…" Davis began, but before the words could leave his mouth, a notification flashed across his screen. He clicked it.

His gaze narrowed, his heart pounding violently, as he watched the live footage that appeared. In the video were the Allen special guards…his people and several others.

Shaking his head, he returned to the call screen, ready to try again. But before he could, another notification blinked at the top of his phone. A news headline.

"A terrible accident involving unknown persons."

The article opened automatically.

A car plunged off a cliff at midday. The identity of the occupants remains uncertain.

Another headline followed:

"A well-protected heiress's car falls off a cliff rescued by her security personnel, identity concealed from the public."

Davis's jaw clenched.

Then another.

"An accident involving two trucks and a car, could the occupants have survived?"

The comments section wasn't left out:

A rich lady indeed. Even in crisis, her identity stays hidden.

I wonder if she will be hidden at the hospital.

Why do I suspect her background might not be ordinary?

I heard the Allen Group security was there, is it possible it was a family member?

Davis is out of the country so it can't be him.

Then who was it?

"Who was involved in the accident?"

The vagueness only fueled his torment.

"Why is the information not clear?" he snapped at the driver.

"Sir, it was not clear. I have been waiting for you since yesterday," the driver replied carefully.

Davis rubbed his brow in frustration. That was right. He was even supposed to return yesterday but unfortunately, due to the weather conditions in Country Y, the plane was diverted and only resumed its trip after they received a clear weather signal.

He had never intended to stay the full five days of the summit and yet, fate had conspired otherwise.

Just as he reached for his chief guard's number, a message popped up on his screen.

"Boss, there is a problem. We are at the hospital. Madam had an accident. She is being resuscitated at Mediterranean Hospital."

Davis's hand trembled. His phone slipped from his grip and landed with a thud. His heart galloped, every beat a roar in his ears.

"Sir?" Ethan's anxious voice cut in.

Though seated in the passenger seat, he had been watching Davis closely, aware of the storm brewing inside him.

"Drive to Mediterranean Hospital," Davis ordered, his voice tight.

But before the driver could respond, the phone began ringing again. Davis bent quickly, snatched it up, and pressed it to his ear.

"Sir," his subordinate's voice came through, urgent and strained. "If you are back in the country, hurry to the hospital. We have a situation."

"On my way," Davis replied evenly, though his tone carried steel.

He lowered the phone, then commanded the driver in a voice that brooked no hesitation. "Faster."

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Mediterranean Hospital

Julian stepped out of Dean Mark's office and strode toward the ICU where Jessica lay, her body frail against the bed, surrounded by the hiss and hum of medical equipment.

Allen family guards stood at attention outside her door, their expressions cold and unreadable. They had followed her here after the rescue and now formed an impenetrable wall of vigilance.

Though the rescue was not done by them alone but the other groups had also been anxious to save her, an indication they weren't the enemy.

But then their sense of responsibility kept them as they had to protect her until Davis returned.

Julian studied them briefly. Their anxious watchfulness, their expressions cold and serious.

His mind flickered back to the crippled man he had seen with her at the cemetery. Could he truly be the same Davis Allen who commanded such loyalty? Or do they just share some relationship with the Allen heir Davis.

From every report so far, it was this heir who held the authority to direct this team.

"You can go back," Julian said curtly, his voice carrying the authority of finality. "I'm transferring her to another hospital outside the country for treatment."

One of the guards stepped forward. "Sir, we appreciate your good intentions. But she is our boss's wife, and nobody moves her until he arrives."

Julian's eyes narrowed, surprise flashing for a brief moment before hardening into contempt, the young man also met his gaze head-on.The guard's defiance stoked his temper.

He had expected them to understand the situation she was in at the moment.

"Do you think you can stop me from moving my…sister?" His voice dropped to a growl, fists clenched at his sides. When was it ever the turn of a guard to talk back to him?

"Sir, Madam has never mentioned a brother," the guard retorted coolly. "Her sworn brother Richard, we know very well."

The words landed sharp. Julian stiffened. Their gaze locked, the guard's eyes cold and resolute. Yes, they had helped bring her out but to surrender her? Never. Not now, not ever.

"Who is your boss?" Julian asked, his voice dipped in mockery.

"Davis Allen of the Allen Group."The guard responded.

Julian fell silent. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the Davis in the news with the cripple in the wheelchair at the cemetery. The pieces refused to fit.

"Young man," he spat, his voice rising. "Davis Allen might be your boss, but that crippled son of the Allen family will never touch my sister again!"

"No matter what you think of Sir," the guard shot back firmly, "that is not my concern. My only duty is her safety. Nobody moves her."

Julian inhaled sharply, he felt his memory refreshed at the confidence of this guard. Slowly, a cold smile curled on his lips.

"Do you truly believe you can stop me from moving her when the preparations are ready?"

"Of course."

The answer didn't come from the guard. It came from the hallway.

Julian's head whipped toward the voice. His eyes widened, shock, disbelief, and an emotion he could not name flickering across his face as he stared at Davis.

His features were cold, distant, familiar yet unfamiliar, but then it wasn't the same man in the wheelchair.

He tried to piece several images together, quite certain he had seen him elsewhere.

His mind raced with questions;

Is this not Dave Raven?

How had he become Davis Allen?

Is this the same person in the picture my father gave me to investigate Dave Raven?

Davis held his gaze, calm and steady, his expression unreadable.

A trace of Jessica and Josh lingered in Julian's features, enough to remind him to hold back his temper, enough to prove his identity..Julian Anderson.

He sighed as he schooled his temper.

He caught the flicker in Julian's eyes before it was masked.

Davis rubbed his temple, thinking to himself. This is really getting complicated. Having the Anderson family at this time, isn't that reducing the chance of keeping my wife?

Well, that will be talked about later, but at the moment he still remains my brother-in-law though not acknowledged yet and Jessica is my wife…

With that conclusion, he stepped forward, his hand stretched out "Julian Anderson," Davis said evenly, his voice cutting through the tension.