Chapter 4 PERFECT WIFE

BRENDA

The hospital corridor stretched endlessly as we ran toward the ICU. Ethan's driver had broken speed limits getting us here, but every second felt like an eternity. Nurses scattered as Ethan ran through, his hand gripping my elbow, half-dragging me forward.

"Where is Sarah Mitchell?" he demanded at the nurses' station, his voice demanding immediate attention.

A doctor appeared, still in surgical scrubs. Blood, Sarah's blood, stained the front of his gown. My knees nearly buckled.

"Mr. Blackwood," he said, recognizing Ethan instantly. "We've been trying to reach you."

"I'm here now. What happened?"

The doctor glanced at me. "Ms. Mitchell started hemorrhaging during preliminary procedures. Her platelets dropped dangerously. We had to halt everything."

"Is she..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"She's stabilized, but critical. The kidney damage is accelerating faster than we anticipated. The infection has spread to her bloodstream. She's septic."

The medical terminology blurred together. All I understood was that my sister was dying faster than expected.

"What do you need?" Ethan asked.

"We need to operate immediately, but it's riskier now. She needs specialized medication we don't have on hand, it's experimental, but effective for cases like hers. And she'll need a complete transfusion."

"Get it," Ethan ordered. "Whatever it costs."

"The medication is in limited supply. There's a protocol for allocation.."

Ethan pulled out his phone. "What's it called?"

The doctor hesitated, then wrote something on his notepad. Ethan glanced at it, then made a call.

"Jackson? It's Blackwood. I need Meropenem-XR, a full treatment course. Yes, now. I don't care if you have to wake the FDA commissioner. Get it to Memorial within the hour." He paused. "Make it happen."

While he continued barking orders, I slipped into Sarah's room. She looked impossibly small beneath the tangle of tubes and wires. Her skin had a gray cast, her breathing slow and labored.

"I'm here," I whispered, taking her limp hand. "I'm right here, Sarah."

Her eyelids fluttered. "Bren?" Her voice was barely audible.

"Don't try to talk. Save your strength."

"Something's wrong," she whispered. "I heard them... talking. They don't think..."

"They're going to fix it," I said fiercely. "The best doctors are working on it. Ethan, Mr. Blackwood, he's making sure you get everything you need."

Her eyes found mine, suddenly sharp despite the pain. "Who is he? Really?"

Before I could answer, Ethan himself appeared at the bedside. "The medication is being flown in. It will be here in forty minutes."

Sarah studied him, even in her weakened state. "You're... helping us. Why?"

Ethan's expression softened fractionally. "Your sister is very persuasive."

A nurse bustled in with more IV bags. "We need to prep her again. Family can wait in the lounge."

Ethan's hand found the small of my back, guiding me out. In the sterile hallway, I finally broke.

"She's going to die," I sobbed. "After everything...."

"No, she isn't." His voice was hard with certainty. "I've invested too much to let that happen."

His callousness should have repulsed me, but somehow it was reassuring. Ethan Blackwood didn't let his investments fail.

"Mr. Blackwood!" A shout from the hospital entrance caught our attention. A man in a lab coat rushed toward us, carrying a sealed medical cooler. "The package you requested."

Ethan checked his watch. "Twenty-eight minutes. Impressive."

The medication was whisked away to Sarah. Minutes later, she was being prepared for emergency surgery again. The head surgeon himself came to brief us.

"We'll do everything possible," he promised. "Mr. Blackwood has arranged for two specialists to assist. With the new medication, her chances are significantly improved."

As they wheeled Sarah away, she reached weakly for my hand. "Love you, Bren," she whispered.

"Love you too. I'll be right here when you wake up."

The hours of waiting were torture. I paced the private waiting room Ethan had somehow procured, while he worked remotely, making occasional calls. How could he be so calm?

"Wearing a hole in the floor won't make the surgery go faster," he said eventually, not looking up from his laptop.

"How can you work at a time like this?"

He finally met my eyes. "Because life doesn't stop for emergencies, Brenda. Business continues."

"Is that all this is to you? Business?"

Something flashed in his eyes. "Everything in my life is business. Even you."

Before I could respond, his phone rang. The ringtone was different from before, a sharp, urgent sound. His expression changed instantly.

"Blackwood," he answered, voice tense. He listened, face darkening. "When? How many know?" Another pause. "Lock it down. No statements until I get there."

He hung up, already gathering his things. "I have to go."

"What? Now? Sarah's still in surgery!"

"There's been an incident at one of my buildings downtown. I need to handle it personally."

"But Sarah...."

"Will be in surgery for hours. You heard the doctor. There's nothing you can do here."

I stared at him in disbelief. "I can't leave! She's my sister!"

"And my business employs ten thousand people who depend on me making the right decisions. This is one of those moments, Brenda."

"Then go," I snapped. "I'm staying."

His jaw tightened. "Fine. But remember our arrangement. I've fulfilled my part, the money, the specialists, the medication. Your sister will receive the best care regardless of whether you're sitting here or not."

"Are you threatening to withdraw her care if I don't come with you?"

"I'm reminding you of our agreement." His voice dropped. "Which includes publicly supporting me. Right now, I need you at my side when I address the press."

"Press? What happened?"

"A structural failure. A section of the new Plaza collapsed. There may be casualties."

My anger soften slightly. People could be hurt or dead.

"Let me leave a message for the surgeon," I said. "And I need to change." I gestured at my outfit, still the black dress from dinner.

"There's no time. The car has a change of clothes for you. You can dress on the way."

******

Thirty minutes later, I stood beside Ethan at an impromptu press conference outside Blackwood Plaza. Ambulances wailed in the background. Construction workers covered in dust were being treated by paramedics. Yellow caution tape cordoned off a section where part of the framework had collapsed.

Reporters shouted questions as cameras flashed. Ethan held up a hand, commanding silence.

"At approximately 11:42 PM, a section of the east wing scaffolding collapsed during routine night work. Emergency protocols were immediately activated. Three workers sustained injuries, non life-threatening. Blackwood Enterprises is cooperating fully with authorities to determine the cause."

"Mr. Blackwood!" A reporter called out. "Sources say your company cut corners on safety inspections to meet deadlines!"

Ethan's expression never changed. "Those allegations are completely false. Safety has always been our highest priority."

"Then why did your safety director resign last month?" another shouted.

I felt Ethan stiffen beside me. His hand found mine, gripping it tightly, a show of unity for the cameras.

"Ms. Reynolds left to pursue other opportunities. Her replacement, Mr. Daniels, has an impeccable record."

The questions grew more aggressive. Ethan fielded them with practiced ease, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. This wasn't a minor incident, it was a potential disaster for his company.

A young female reporter pushed to the front. "Mr. Blackwood, is it true you were with your new fiancée when the accident occurred? Can you confirm rumors of your engagement?"

The crowd suddenly went quiet. All eyes turned to me.

Ethan's arm slid around my waist, pulling me closer. "Yes, I can confirm that Brenda Mitchell and I are engaged to be married. We're deeply saddened that our happy news coincides with tonight's unfortunate incident."

Cameras exploded with flashes. Questions came from all directions:

"How did you meet?"

"When's the wedding?"

"Miss Mitchell, what attracted you to Mr. Blackwood?"

I froze, panic rising. Ethan's fingers dug into my side, a warning.

"We're very happy," I managed, forcing a smile. "But tonight isn't about us. Our thoughts are with the injured workers and their families."

Ethan's approving squeeze was my reward. "My fiancée is right. Our focus now is on those affected by tonight's events. Blackwood Enterprises will cover all medical expenses and ensure the affected workers receive full compensation during recovery."

After a few more questions, his security team escorted us back to the car. Once inside, Ethan immediately returned to his phone, typing rapidly.

"You did well," he said, not looking up. "Natural instinct for deflection. Useful."

"Those workers, are they really okay?"

"Yes. Minor injuries. But the structural failure is concerning. It shouldn't have happened."

My phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number: Sarah out of surgery. Stable but critical. Will call with details. –Dr. Winters

Relief washed over me. "Sarah's out of surgery."

Ethan nodded. "I told you she'd be fine."

"We should go back..."

"Not yet. There's another stop to make."

"What? Where?"

"My company's under attack, Brenda. The timing of that scaffolding collapse and those specific questions from the press isn't coincidence. Someone wants to damage Blackwood Enterprises' reputation."

"And that's more important than my sister?"

His eyes met mine, cold and determined. "Right now? Yes. Because if my company suffers, so does our arrangement. Including your sister's care."

The car pulled up outside a gleaming skyscraper, Blackwood Enterprises headquarters. Despite the late hour, the building hummed with activity.

Security guards nodded respectfully as Ethan strode through the lobby, me struggling to keep pace beside him.

We rode the elevator to the top floor in silence. When the doors opened, we stepped into organized chaos. People rushed about with documents and tablets, voices tense as they spoke into phones.

"Report," Ethan barked at a harried-looking man who approached.

"Initial findings suggest tampering, sir. The scaffolding bolts were deliberately loosened."

Ice ran down my spine. Sabotage?

"Evidence?"

"Security footage shows an unidentified individual accessing the site last night. Face covered."

Ethan's expression darkened. "Show me."

I followed them into a conference room where security footage played on a large screen. The blurry video showed a figure in dark clothing awkwardly working at the scaffolding joints.

"Have you identified them?" Ethan asked.

"No, sir. But we found this." The man handed over a small plastic bag containing what looked like a cufflink.

Ethan examined it, his face hardening. "Where exactly was this found?"

"Near the tampering site."

"Run it for prints. And get me the building access logs for the past week."

As people scrambled to follow his orders, Victoria Chen strode into the room. She wore an impeccable suit despite the late hour, not a hair out of place. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me.

"Ethan. I came as soon as I heard." She glanced dismissively at me. "I'm surprised you brought... her."

"Brenda is my fiancée. She goes where I go."

Victoria's smile was razor-sharp. "How sweet. I hope she's not... distracting you from what's important."

"She's exactly where she needs to be," Ethan replied coolly. "What are you doing here, Victoria?"

"Offering assistance, of course. My father wants you to know that Chen Global stands with Blackwood Enterprises during this unfortunate incident. Our PR team is at your disposal."

"How considerate," Ethan said, his tone neutral. "But unnecessary. We have the situation under control."

Victoria stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Do you? Because it looks like someone is targeting you, Ethan. And your new... arrangement... makes you vulnerable."

Her eyes cut to me, cold and calculating. I stared back, refusing to be intimidated despite the designer clothes that made my borrowed outfit look like rags.

"If you'll excuse us," Ethan said pointedly. "We have work to do."

Victoria placed a manicured hand on his arm. "Just remember: I know all your secrets, Ethan. Every skeleton, every deal. Your new fiancée might be easily fooled, but others won't be."

It sounded remarkably like a threat.

After she left, Ethan worked for hours, issuing directives, reviewing documents, making calls. I sat forgotten in a corner, exhaustion washing over me. It was nearly 4 AM when he finally approached me.

"We're done here. I'll take you back to the hospital."

In the car, I struggled to stay awake. "Was it really sabotage?"

"Yes." His voice was grim. "And whoever did it knew exactly what they were doing."

"Victoria seemed... concerned."

Ethan's laugh held no humor. "Victoria is never concerned about anyone but herself."

"She said she knows your secrets."

His eyes met mine in the darkness. "Everyone has secrets, Brenda. The question is, which ones matter?"

At the hospital, Sarah had been moved to a private room. Her condition was stable but critical, the next 48 hours would be crucial. I collapsed into the chair beside her bed while Ethan spoke with Dr. Winters in the hallway.

"I'll send a car for you tomorrow morning," he said when he returned. "You need rest."

"I'm staying here."

He looked like he might argue, then nodded. "As you wish. Security will remain outside. If you need anything, tell them."

After he left, I held Sarah's hand, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. So much had happened in just one day. My life had completely transformed, from homeless to engaged to a billionaire, from desperate to... whatever this new arrangement was.

I must have dozed off because I woke to a soft touch on my shoulder. A nurse smiled down at me.

"Someone left this for you," she said, handing me a small velvet box.

Inside was an engagement ring, a massive diamond that caught the light like a small sun, surrounded by smaller sapphires. A note accompanied it: Wear this. At all times. -E

Even in a hospital room at dawn, he was controlling everything. I slipped the ring on, surprised by its perfect fit. Like everything else about Ethan Blackwood, it was beautiful, expensive, and felt like a shackle.

Sarah stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. "Brenda?"

"I'm here," I said, quickly moving to her side.

"What's that?" she asked, her eyes fixed on my hand.

Before I could answer, commotion erupted in the hallway. Shouting, then running footsteps. The door burst open as a security guard stumbled in, blood streaming from a gash on his temple.

"Ms. Mitchell," he gasped. "We need to go. Now."

"What? Why? What's happening?"

"Someone's here. They're after you."

"Me? That's ridiculous..."

The lights suddenly went out, plunging the room into darkness. Emergency lights flickered on, casting everything in an eerie red light. Sarah's machines beeped frantically.

The guard pressed a gun into my hand. "Lock the door after me. Don't open it for anyone except Mr. Blackwood."

"I don't understand.."

"The attack at the Plaza wasn't random," he said urgently. "It was a message. And now they're here to deliver another one. Through you."

He slipped out, and I locked the door with trembling hands. Sarah's frightened eyes found mine in the red emergency light.

"Brenda, what's going on? Who's after you?"

The gun felt wrong and heavy in my hand. "I don't know."

Outside, there was a shout, then a thud. Then silence.

Footsteps approached our door. Slow. Deliberate.

The handle turned, testing the lock.

I raised the gun with shaking hands, positioning myself between the door and Sarah's bed.

"Who is it?" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

No answer. Just another testing of the handle.

My phone buzzed. A text from Ethan: DON'T TRUST ANYONE. COMING NOW.

A key card swiped. The electronic lock beeped.The door began to open....