Chapter 2 Grabbed The Wrong Thing

Lindsay groped for the edge of the bed, finally managing to find her phone by touch alone.

Running her fingers over the raised keys meant for the blind, Lindsay dialed the one number she still trusted-her best friend, Vera Green.

"Linds?" Vera's voice burst through the line, bright with excitement before melting into gentle concern. "You finally shook that cold? I was planning to visit this weekend, but work's been nonstop. Since you were under the weather, I figured I'd give you space."

A cold? Lindsay tried to remember when that had supposedly happened but pushed the thought aside. Keeping her tone steady, she said, "Vera, you mentioned you're interning under Dr. Anthony Dixon. Do you think you could help me get on his list for a corneal transplant?"

Anthony Dixon was no ordinary doctor. As the third son of the influential Dixon family in Eighstin, he had been known for his razor‑sharp mind and cold demeanor since childhood. At fourteen, he'd created a technology that sent the Dixon Group's value soaring overnight, earning him the family patriarch's admiration and marking him as the obvious heir.

But Anthony had shocked everyone by refusing to take over the empire. He had finished a dual medical program faster than anyone expected and rose to become Mercy Hospital's most in‑demand eye surgeon.

What mattered most to Lindsay was that the Dixon and Riley families had clashed for generations. Matthew would never have enough influence to track down Anthony's patients.

This sliver of an opening was the only chance Lindsay could see. She silently prayed that when Anthony recognized her name, he wouldn't let the past stand in the way.

On the other end of the line, Vera stayed quiet for a long, heavy moment. "Matthew didn't tell you?"

Lindsay froze, her breath catching. "What was he supposed to tell me?"

Vera let out a sigh. "There's a perfect corneal donor available today. I called Matthew myself to give him the news, but he told me you were sick with a terrible cold and couldn't make it in. The matching window is closing fast. If we miss this one, we might be waiting months for another chance."

A sharp pain twisted through Lindsay's chest, forcing her to take deep breaths just to stay steady. Her fingers tightened around the phone until her knuckles whitened. A rare donor match-dismissed because of a cold she never even had. No wonder Matthew had asserted that her eyes would never heal. He had been pulling strings behind the scenes. He must have been cutting off every chance she had for surgery, every opportunity to regain her sight, for three long years.

The realization scorched through her, hatred roaring up like flames. She bit down on her finger, grounding herself before she shattered. The Riley family practically ran half of Eighstin. If Matthew sensed even a whisper of suspicion from her, everything she was planning would fall apart-and Vera would be dragged down with her.

Lindsay tilted her head back, blinking hard until the tears retreated. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, delicate, almost bashful. "Vera, if I get my sight back, Matthew will definitely be thrilled. Can you keep this between us for now? I want to surprise him."

Vera burst into a laugh, completely convinced. "Oh, say no more. You two are hopelessly sweet on each other. I won't breathe a word."

A wave of relief washed over Lindsay. She and Vera settled the details quickly-Vera would pick her up the moment Matthew left for work.

That night crawled by in agony. Sleep refused to come to Lindsay. The familiar warmth beside her, once a source of comfort, now made her skin crawl.

Morning finally arrived.

As soon as Matthew's car rolled down the driveway, Vera's arrived in its place.

Raelyn Payne, the housemaid, recognized Vera instantly. She smiled, opened the gate, and waved Lindsay and Vera off, suspecting nothing.

Vera launched into her usual cheerful chatter the moment Lindsay sat down, her voice bubbling through the car. Slowly, the sound eased the tightness in Lindsay's chest. Drained from the night's terror, Lindsay leaned against the window and slipped into a shallow sleep.

By the time they pulled up outside Anthony's office, Lindsay felt like she could breathe again.

"Dr. Dixon," Vera called out, her voice bright and cheerful, "this is the patient I mentioned yesterday. Thank you for agreeing to see her."

A smooth, level voice responded, "Please, have a seat."

Vera helped Lindsay into the exam chair and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I got called to the ER, so I have to run. Text me when you're finished, alright?"

"I will." Lindsay nodded.

The door clicked behind Lindsay, sealing her in with the scent of disinfectant-sharp and clinical-with just the faintest undercurrent of sandalwood.

"Try to relax."

She felt his breath on her cheek, gentle but close.

Cool fingers hovered near her eyes. She recognized the soft click of a penlight.

"Full-thickness injury. No response to light," Lindsay remarked, steady and matter-of-fact.

A low hum was his only reply.

A few seconds later, he warned, "This might sting a little."

Lindsay gave a small nod, bracing herself. She told herself she could handle it. But she was wrong. The instant the probe pressed to her eye, a wave of searing pain crashed over her-the same blinding agony she remembered from the glass had ripped through her vision on that fateful day.

Lost in darkness, she reached out, desperate for something solid, anything to anchor her. Her hand closed instinctively around the first thing she found. But unbeknownst to her, it was his private parts, straining against his pants because of her touch.

Without thinking, she squeezed tighter, clinging to the only comfort in the room.

A low, rough groan vibrated from his chest. "So how long do you intend to hold on?"