To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 3

As she spoke, Nanette's other hand shot out, grabbing Elara by the collar.

A glint of cold anger flashed in Elara's eyes. She snatched the water glass from the nightstand and hurled it at Nanette's head.-

With a sharp crack, the glass shattered against Nanette's temple.

Nanette staggered back, her trembling fingers reaching for the cut as she stared, wide-eyed, in disbelief.

"You… You dare—! I'll make you pay for this!"

Like a rabid dog, Nanette lunged at Elara with reckless fury.

Elara had just spent five days in intensive care—she was in no state to fight back.

Nanette seized her by the shirt and slammed her to the floor.

At that moment, the door was kicked open with a crash.

Brian stood in the doorway.

His tailored suit cut a sharp profile, every line crisp and refined, his handsome features still carrying a wintry chill. Though he must have rushed here, an air of untouchable authority clung to him.

His gaze swept over the chaos in the room. The instant he saw Elara stumble and fall, he dashed inside, dropped to one knee, and gathered her into his arms.

Elara's head landed against his chest. The world spun and then went black.

"Elara…"

His voice was low, gentle in her ear.

But the woman in his arms lay limp, unresponsive.

He looked up, his eyes cold and sharp, locking onto the perpetrator.

The atmosphere in the ward turned icy, sunlight streaming through the window suddenly losing all warmth.

Mrs. Chamberlain clung to Nanette's hand, her voice trembling, "You said she'd lost his favor… Is this what you call ‘out of favor'?"

Nanette was stunned, speechless.

Wasn't Brian supposed to be attending a private concert with Lina right now?

How could he—

Abruptly, Nanette jerked free from Mrs. Chamberlain, rolled her eyes, and theatrically collapsed to the floor in a faint.

…

When Elara came to, it was evening.

Not a strand of his hair was out of place, and the cologne on his suit was the same as always—a scent she'd once found comforting.

If no one had snapped that photo, he'd still be the flawless, unapproachable Brian she'd always known.

"So my wife was so upset with me she filed complaints against the hospital and Charles?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Elara could hear his attempt to gloss over everything, but some things couldn't be swept under the rug—not in a marriage.

"Would Nanette have dared to barge into my hospital room if you hadn't made it clear where your heart lies?"

Brian didn't seem surprised that she'd learned something. He sat on the edge of the bed, his playful smile fading.

"It was business. I couldn't change my schedule, but I didn't abandon you. I personally picked your medical team and the emergency plan. You couldn't use your phone in the ICU, but Charles updated me on your condition every day. People love to gossip, but they don't know the facts."

Only Brian could deliver such a flawless, yet utterly insincere explanation.

Elara didn't want to let her disappointment decide whether she believed him or not, but right now, all she felt was emptiness.

"I have doctors to treat me, Yves Caldwell to sign my medical forms… Since you have someone to handle everything, why not let someone else sleep and have children for you too, Mr. Vincent? Wouldn't that be more efficient?"

"Elara!"

Elara had always been gentle—never sharp, never cruel. Brian was caught off guard, his face tightening as he struggled to adjust.