Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

"To play the final leg?" Julian probed. To some extent, he didn't actually understand what Davis meant by final leg.

Had there been precedents?

Had there been such an occurrence in the past that he wasn't yet aware of?

From his investigations, he had gathered only fragments…how Davis Allen's father, Alex Allen, and his wife had both died in an accident.

But beyond that, the information in his possession amounted to nothing more than the general knowledge already known by the public about the Allen family.

Julian realized he had only traced how his sister had gotten into the family. Perhaps his groundwork hadn't been as thorough as it should have been.

Davis gave a curt nod. "Yes." His voice was firm, deliberate, "I will take this time to finish what that person started."

"I will take this time to uncover everyone behind every single plot and scheme that has plagued the Allen family," his tone carrying the weight of resolve.

He paused, his gaze hardening. "This has gone on long enough. I have delayed it for too long. Now… I will be settling every outstanding score."

His parents' deaths.

His own accident.

His mother-in-law's untimely death.

And now…someone had the guts of the person to make a move on his wife.

He could not allow the perpetrators to walk the face of the earth while she lay unconscious, barely living, fighting for her life. That would be injustice…not only to her, but to himself.

Perhaps, he had been too soft, too accommodating or was he too weak, but from this moment, he had made his decision and that he will achieve.

Julian's eyes narrowed as he studied Davis's expression…his voice tinged with biting coldness, the clenched jaw, the hands curling tightly into fists, and there is no doubt his heart might also be burning with fury.

"Will you be needing any help?" He asked. Though he already had his own plans for the person that was bold enough to lay their filthy hands on his sister, he doesn't mind lending an extra hand.

"It wouldn't hurt in the least," he mused.

Davis gave it a brief thought, his eyes softened as they fell on the woman in the ICU. "Not really," he said quietly. "If there's anything I might need, I won't be shy to ask."

His wife had been the one hurt, the one left lying unconscious. This was his battle to fight, his debt to collect, otherwise how could he be worthy of facing her when she wakes up.

Julian read the determination etched vividly across Davis's face and shook his head lightly. There was no doubt…Country Y was about to experience the wrath of a man whose wife had been touched.

"Alright," Julian murmured. "I'll be waiting."

Davis gave one last glance at the tightly shut door of the ICU, fire burning hotter in his heart. "Julian, I'll make a move first," he said, turning to leave.

But Julian's voice halted him.

"Dave," he called, walking up to him. "See your children first. They were untimely forced into this world…and at the moment, you need to acknowledge them."

Davis rubbed his brow, weighing the words, then nodded. "Alright. Lead the way."

Dean Mark, who had been standing a few feet away, exhaled with visible relief and walked ahead, leading Davis toward the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU).

Julian turned to the guards posted outside the ICU. His tone dropped, cold and commanding, so different from the simple man who had just been conversing with Davis. "Aside from the Dean, no other medical personnel goes in."

Like Davis, Julian wanted nothing but vengeance, but he wasn't about to risk or take any chances of another mishap happening under his nose.

With Dean Mark's connection to the Anderson family, he can easily hold him responsible and accountable for any wrong than having another person take care of her.

On the way to the NICU, Davis's fist clenched by his side. This was supposed to be a joyous event, news worth celebrating. Yet, all he felt were conflicting emotions, heavy and grievous. His heart thumping..

The ICU nursery was quiet except for the steady hiss of machines and the rhythmic beeping of monitors. The sound weighed ominously on Davis's chest. The hallway was brightly lit and quiet.

At the end of the corridor, a nurse at the sanitation station stopped them. After gearing up, she gave Davis a curt nod of approval.

Davis took a deep breath and stepped forward, the frosted glass doors parted softly. The faint glow from within spilled into the hall, warmer than the stark lights outside.

"We're here," Dean Mark said quietly.

Davis felt his heart lurch at the thought of seeing his children, he wondered how he could face them, when he wasn't there to keep them from danger.

Dean Mark held the door open and inclined his head. "They're waiting for you."

For a moment, Davis froze. His breath caught in his chest, he wanted to turn around. He exhaled slowly. Then, with a slow nod, he stepped inside.

The room was a different world, it was softer, quieter, filled with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the low hiss of oxygen.

Incubators lined the wall like small protective chambers, glowing faintly under gentle lamps that mimicked the warmth of the womb.

The pale blue glow casting soft halos of light over the tiny forms inside. Sterile air carried a faint scent of disinfectant, sharp yet strangely calming.

Dean Mark placed a reassuring hand on Davis's shoulder, steering him toward the far corner.

"There," he said quietly. "That's them."

He nodded, stepping forward with hesitant reverence. His eyes locked on the twins which are impossibly small, their skin almost translucent, each breath rising and falling with a struggle.

Wires, tubes, and the hum of oxygen cradled them in a mechanical womb, but to Davis, they were more than fragile patients, they were his.

Davis stood at the glass wall for a moment, his tall figure strangely dwarfed by the fragility of the sight before him.

His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, as if he needed something to hold onto, but the only thing anchoring him now were the two small lives lying under the warm light.

The nurse beside him gestured gently.

"You may come closer, Mr. Allen. Just don't open the incubator. They're still very delicate."

His throat tightened. He placed a palm softly against the clear wall of the incubator, wishing the barrier weren't there, wishing he could feel their warmth against his skin.

"If only your mother hadn't been in this accident," he murmured, his eyes stung, his heart broken at the sight.

He couldn't believe his unborn children were already suffering, tied to tubes and wires in order to survive.

"Your pain won't be in vain," he murmured, his voice breaking.

One of the twins stirred, a tiny hand flexing, fingers curling toward the light. Davis's heart clenched painfully.

He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching the glass. The weight of everything crashing down on him…Jessica's accident, the uncertainty of survival, the pains of the past.

"You're alive," he whispered shakily. "That's all that matters."

A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes burned with unspoken prayers.

"You're not alone," he whispered. "I'm here. Both of you… I'll always be here."

Behind him, the nurse quietly adjusted the monitor, pretending not to notice the billionaire heir standing vulnerable and undone before two tiny, flickering lights of hope.

Davis stepped out of the NICU, his emotion lighter, seeing them alive and well had given him another reason to fight harder and not just fight but win.

Outside, the car pulled up. Ethan stepped out, opening the door for him. Davis slid inside, nodding curtly.

"Keep her identity hidden, as it has been," he instructed.

"Where to, Sir?" The driver asked. Just back from the summit and with no clear itinerary, he sought confirmation of Davis's next move.

"Club." Davis clipped.

With a nod, the driver turned on the ignition and the car slowly pulled away from the hospital.

~Louis Mansion~

Sylas Louis paced furiously in his sitting room, his phone clutched tight in his hand.

Eight hours had passed since the accident, yet there had been no feedback. No call. No one had come to collect their balance.

From the news and the presence of the Allen security team at the crash site, he was certain it was a done deal. But until he heard it directly, until he tied the final knot, he could not rest.

"What is going on?" he muttered, redialing for the umpteenth time.

The phone beeped, disconnecting yet again. His jaw tightened, his breath ragged. A thousand worst-case scenarios churned through his mind.

"Have they been captured?" he whispered.

No. Impossible.

Davis hadn't even returned to the country yet. There shouldn't have been a problem.

So why weren't they coming for their balance?

He drew in a sharp breath, his gaze flicking to the banquet table prepared in anticipation of victory. His eyes narrowed, cold and calculating.

"The last step must be done," he said grimly. "A secret will never remain a secret…when someone else knows about it."