Waking Up My Comatose Tycoon Husband

d wiped her grandmother's brow. The rhythmic electronic beep of

thout a knock, shatter

d warily. "What ar

harsh, antiseptic light of the room. He didn't look at Aria. He didn't look at the frail w

ing. He needs a wife. You've hit the jackpot. Back in the day, Hadley was the richest, most talented man in New York. He never mixed

uch a great opportunity, why don't you go get yourself neutered and take my p

k you have a choice? What about your grandm

the corner of her mouth curled into a dismissive smirk. "There's no way the Sinclairs would com

The moment she understood what he was really plotting, her gaze turned dange

?" Aria's voice was low and s

er despair-or rather, he thought he did. He fed on it. He slid a thick leather folder onto

oice flat, devoid of warmth. "They're stopping treat

he. The sterile room suddenly felt suffocating, the walls

on the folder's cover: a stylized,

to a conspiratorial hiss. "Past, present, and future. The best car

lder. She flipped it open. The words seemed

ge Agr

name: Hadley Sinclair-the phantom heir of New York. A man who had been

bedrail to steady herself. They wanted her to marry

softened by age and illness. She was the only person in the world who had ever shown Aria genuine love, the only real fa

rdened into a mask of

he pen lying on t

d came out like a shard o

omised in any way, if a nurse is even five minutes late with her medication-I will personally tear the Foster family apart. The first family of New York? Then I'll

tainty in her eyes, made him tremble for a moment. This wasn't t

the old woman's life as leverage forever. And that pendant-that small silver locket, the only clue her biological parents had left her, the only key to finding out who she really was-would be lost to her forever. So she had to play the part. The poor girl with no way out. The

in firm, decisive

t out a breath of relief. "There's a car waiting

and walked out, he

ing stares from doctors and patients alike. The driver, a man named Mr. Miller, stood by th

ike a distant, dying star in a galaxy from which she was being exiled. Soon the city gave

nsion loomed into view-a sprawling, Gothic behemoth of stone and

nd faded T-shirt, standing before that mountain

em. A stern-faced older woman in a crisp black housekeep

boots to her plain face-and her lips curle

dripping with condescension, "you

canvas, giving the housekeeper nothing to f

of stern-faced Sinclair ancestors who seemed to judge her f

of diamonds around her neck, her silk dress whisperi

something unpleasant she had found on the bottom of her

d Mrs. Hicks, not even bothering to addre