The Billionaire's Wife (A Steamy BWWM Marriage of Convenience Romance Novel)

by Mia Caldwell

  “Kiona…” Cole continued to moan.

  “You have punished us, and for what? Nothing.”

  Alphonse stared open-mouthed at me. “I didn’t…I only meant…you…” He turned to Cole. “I’ve seen everything I need to. Your wife…I never thought I would see such conviction. I was convinced you were a foolish man, and that you meant to try and trick me on this condition. But it is clear to me now that you both have fulfilled my requirements…and I am so sorry. Perhaps I was the fool all along. I have your signatures, and I’ll add my own effective immediately.”

  I heard a crumpling noise, and I immediately turned.

  “Cole?”

  He was sprawled against the floor.

  “Cole?!” I threw myself to his side, checking his pulse. “Oh my god, he’s…” I looked up to Alphonse. “Quick! We’re losing him! Call a medevac!”

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 30

  Kiona

  The medical helicopter appeared within fifteen minutes, and paramedics jumped out to move Cole onto a stretcher. Once they were firing up the rotors to fly him back, Alphonse and I took the elevator down to the ground level, hopped into Cole’s Audi, and raced to the hospital side by side.

  Overwhelmed, I sobbed during the entire ride, running through the gears and putting the sports car through its paces. I didn’t even care that Alphonse Megami was only feet away, a grave expression on his face. This man had been the entire cornerstone for everything that Cole had been trying to do in these last few weeks. He was here, and everything had hinged on this one final chance to curry his favor…but none of that mattered.

  I didn’t try to play up the tears, or my anguish; my point had been made. In his self-righteousness, he had burdened us both, and now it was time to accept what was coming.

  But part of me held onto hope.

  This can’t be how it ends.

  Alphonse didn’t say a word about our terse argument. He simply sat and contemplated. I hoped that I had gotten through to him. He’d changed my life for the better with his stupid expectations, but he’d also introduced the deepest wound I’d ever experienced.

  After about thirty minutes, we arrived at the closest hospital. I didn’t even bother to find parking, bringing the Audi violently up and over the curb and leaving it running on a hill of grass just outside the emergency room doors. Time mattered more than the inevitable fine I would incur for my transgressions. I leapt from the car and left Megami in my wake as I burst through the hospital doors.

  Despite my shouts, I was directed to a waiting room while Cole was behind closed doors, tended to by a qualified team of emergency responders. We weren’t given any notice of his condition – for all I knew, he was dying behind those doors.

  And it killed me on the inside.

  * * *

  After about an hour, the doors finally opened, and Cole was moved to a patient room. In an unsurprising lack of coordination, we weren’t notified until he was already settled in, so we flocked towards the nearest elevator, across the hall, and to his temporary lodgings.

  Cole turned as soon as the door opened. Stripped of his formal attire and vigor, the sight of his weary, aching body in patient robes was absolutely heartbreaking to see.

  “You came,” he murmured as I reached down to hug him, holding myself together. Over my shoulder, he added: “…You both came.”

  “Of course, honey,” I told him. “There’s no way I wouldn’t be here with you.”

  I pulled aside so that he could straighten himself up in bed. It was now that I noticed his breathing was laborious, and I spotted a stack of napkins at his side, with a few already crumpled into balls – the white material stained with patches of dried reddish-brown.

  “Alphonse…I didn’t expect you to…see me like this…”

  “I have put you through much hardship, haven’t I?” He asked contemplatively.

  “You sure as…hell did.”

  “Forgive me, Cole.”

  “You have redirected…valuable weeks of my life…my last weeks…to this wild chase…just to secure…my employees’ very futures…” Cole grunted painfully. “Living up to your…archaic demands and traditions…robbed me of my last days…”

  Our guest grew visibly disturbed at the words.

  “But despite this…I found something…in your misguided directive,” he continued on. “I found…my Kiona…and although we will be parted soon…I am…happy to have met her.” He paused, conserving his breath, and waved me away when I tried to hand him his glass of water. “She has…greatly enhanced my…final weeks…and for that alone…I will forgive you, you…stupid, misguided bastard.”

  “Thank you,” Alphonse bowed his head graciously. “If there is anything that I can do – anything – just say the word. I want to make your passing as easy on you as possible.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” I told him firmly, turning my fury. “He’s going to be fine. We still have a few days, maybe a week. We’ll get through tonight and make the most of it.”

  “No,” Cole responded.

  “I…what?” I turned to him, stricken with panic.

  “The doctors…say…I won’t last the night…this is it.”

  * * *

  Everything was faint and disoriented, as if swirling under the surface of a clean, clear lake, while the rest of the world continued on above the crisp edge of the water.

  There was some small sensation – I believe someone was holding me by the shoulders. I turned my head. It was Alphonse, with a face filled with concern.

  Something brushed my own face. It was a set of pale, strong fingers. My attention turned towards them, and I could see Cole, reaching down to console me.

  Down?

  Right. I was on my knees. Did I faint?

  The room slowly came back. My head didn’t hurt, and nothing else on me did. I must not have fainted, only…collapsed downward, perhaps. The shock had been a bit much.

  The shock.

  I remembered, all of a sudden. Cole – my husband – was going to die tonight, in all likelihood. I thought I had more time with him, but no. The world was cruel, and my love was going to fade away from me.

  Once I was back on my feet and steady, Alphonse quickly checked me over. Apparently satisfied, he elected to ask me a few times about my present condition, before stepping aside to grab some coffee and give us some time alone.

  I sat next to Cole, pulling a chair up beside him. I held his hand to my face, feeling his fingers grasp lightly at my hair or caress my cheek. To think that I was such a different person before I met this man; I couldn’t fathom being that person anymore.

  “You look…so very beautiful,” he whispered.

  “You’re not too bad-looking yourself,” I smiled through my tears.

  Cole grinned weakly, his eyes twinkling just a little. “Transparent flattery…was never a…very good color on you…”

  We smiled at each other, thinking back to the lunch appointment that had set this entire mess into motion. Before I knew about Coppersmith’s secretive agenda against Cole…before Alphonse Megami and the buyout…before I really learned who this man was, his tragic past…before I knew that he was dying. So much had happened since then. We had come to trust one another, rely on one another…I’d seen this standoffish leader of his tiny, lucrative empire open his heart up, finally letting go of his fears and anxieties…and in return, he had given me stability, love, and personal sacrifice.

  We had learned to love one another – our partnership of mutual business benefit had become something else entirely.

  It had become an unbreakable bond.

  “When did you decide that you loved me?” Cole asked, as if reading my very thoughts.

  “I think I knew when I was against your body in a little soul club in New Orleans,” I answered softly. “I still needed time before I could really admit it to myself…but that sounds about right.”

  Cole nodded softly, lost in thought.

&
nbsp; “What about you?”

  “I knew for sure…with complete certainty…when I told you that I was dying…and you told me you would…stand by my side…I had been so afraid…and in that moment…I knew I wouldn’t be afraid again…”

  I pulled myself upwards and planted my full lips against his. It wasn’t a deep, passionate kiss – I knew he didn’t have the lungs for that right now – but there were just as many sparks as the moment that we had first kissed in that sham of a wedding.

  About two minutes after I pulled away from the kiss, an older, stern man in glasses and a lab coat appeared in the doorway, flipping through pages on a clipboard.

  Cole immediately perked up a little at the sight of him. “Doctor Greene…” he murmured, gazing over at the physician – who was approaching us from the doorway. “Kiona…meet my specialist…this is the man who…has been guiding me with the…disease…”

  As the man plucked the latex gloves from his hands, I shook his hand as warmly as I could muster. “Greetings, doctor.”

  “Forgive me for being short, but we’re low on time,” Doctor Greene curtly informed me. As blinding confusion and panic mixed together in my mind, he immediately turned to Cole. “Mr. Andrews, there’s been a development. We have got to get you into surgery immediately. Do you consent to a double lung transplant?”

  “I…what?” He stammered. “Yes, of course…but…how?”

  “We have an organ donor who suffered a fatal accident tonight. Some of his torso was, compromised in the accident…but his lungs in particular are viable. I’ll warn you, they are only a near match. While you would ordinarily never be given a transplant under these conditions, the proximity of the donor and the fact that you are one floor down from the operating room has moved you to the front of the transplant list. Because your disease has brought you to the brink of death, your weakened and compromised immune system may reduce the likelihood of rejection. Although experimental in nature, it is possible that with further immunosuppressant…”

  “Done…” Cole groaned before a quizzical look crossed his face. The doctor cut him off as he opened his mouth to ask something that seemed pressing.

  “Keep in mind, Mr. Andrews, that this is a potentially lethal procedure. We will take every care and measure to preserve your life, but…the risk is there.”

  “Doc, after tonight…I’d be dead either way,” Cole replied, his breathing still horribly labored. “Do it. I’ll sign…whatever you have for me. But…I need to know something.”

  “We don’t have much time,” he impatiently remarked.

  “I understand that,” Cole answered. “But…my God. Somebody had to die…to save me. Doctor, I have to…know his name…do you know who it was?” A look of pity and conflict clouded his features.

  “Yes,” Doctor Greene answered calmly, his cold eyes glimmering behind the glasses. “But we do need to get you prepped immediately, and patient confidentiality requires…”

  “I don’t give a damn about your patient confidentiality. You know who I am. You know what I can do. I’m dying and I want to know the name of the person who just saved my life.”

  The Doctor paused for a moment, glancing around the room before speaking again with a slackened look upon his face. “It was a motorcyclist. I believe his name was Jerry Hi…no,” he said, glancing down at the paperwork in his hands, “Larry Higgins.”

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  Chapter 31

  Kiona

  We didn’t have time to be in shock, or time to wonder how this happened. Doctor Greene quickly explained the possible complications, but was surprisingly confident that the procedure would not only save his life, but also possibly – possibly – stop the disease at the source. There was a chance Cole would reject the transplant, but I could see fire in Cole’s eyes. We were out of time, but clearly, Cole had something to live for.

  Cole was prepped almost immediately, signing a brisk form and being quickly put under heavy sedation. Afterwards, he was wheeled behind the swinging double doors for emergency transplant surgery. I followed along as far as they’d let me go, before I stopped at those sterile, official doors, afraid that my husband was going to bleed out on the operating table.

  I tracked down Alphonse, and I updated them him on the situation. Even the hospital staff seemed stunned at this sudden change of events, and all we could do was quietly wait for a few hours.

  After all of the sharp, blindsiding turns of the night, I was completely and utterly drained. It had started so simple, and yet now I was living in an endless nightmare with sudden, unexplained compromises. I knew I needed to sleep, but my mind just couldn’t let me. Nor did I want it to.

  Instead, I paced idly, trying to keep myself preoccupied.

  But questions nagged.

  Larry’s death broke my heart. I barely believed that it could be true. He was a good man, and far too young for this to have happened. He deserved a long, fulfilling life, and his entitled slice of the pie. The business deal was secured – the company would be sold to Alphonse Megami, and now the one person I wanted more than anything to enjoy the coming rewards was the one man who couldn’t.

  And how is he even a partial match? I couldn’t figure it out. The way that Cole had put it, there was a snowball’s chance in Hell that a pair of viable lungs would appear, especially within the small window of time he had left. It seemed illogical, and I wanted to know more…

  There was so many questions, and I was caught in an endless loop: it was too painful to focus on Cole’s condition pending a possibly lethal surgery, but the only other thing I could dwell on instead was Larry’s untimely death. That in itself was horrible to contemplate, so I could only switch my thoughts back and forth.

  And on it went.

  Alphonse Megami did his part to keep me as calm as he could. For all his bluster and stone faced attitude, he seemed to be genuinely compassionate of my plight. After our debate on the rooftop and Cole’s subsequent flare-up, the elderly businessman was troubled and grave, but he tried to keep me preoccupied. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t exactly in the mood to discuss even the most generalized details about myself, nor specifics about how I met Cole, but I did appreciate him trying to keep my mind off of things.

  The night dragged on. It was over six painful hours before Doctor Greene reappeared, stepping outside of the operating room to finally give us the official news.

  I dabbed at my tear-filled eyes as he spoke the best damned words he could have told me: “Your husband is going to live, Mrs. Andrews. It’s too early to tell, but signs point to his condition normalizing. It will be a long recovery, but we are as optimistic as we can reasonably be at this time.”

  * * *

  Cole was still mildly delirious when he was finally released from the hospital twelve long days later. Alphonse had canceled countless meetings to remain in New York for the duration. He was there as Cole’s driver Gregory arrived to bring us back to the hotel. When we passed through the lobby with our ill survivor, the staff present gave a cheerful but reasonably muted cheer. Alphonse and Gregory helped me guide Cole into the elevator, and at the rooftop manor, they assisted me in helping him to bed, where he began his longer road to full recovery under my watchful care.

  When I woke up later that morning, Cole was sitting up in bed, reading a book from his nightstand.

  “You…you’re awake,” I murmured quietly.

  “I am. Welcome back, darling,” he replied warmly.

  “But I…how long have you…?”

  “Only about an hour…but enough about me. That doesn’t look terribly comfortable,” he indicated the chair that I found myself in. It appeared that I had dragged a chair into his room and fallen asleep at his side. “Why don’t you get some proper rest? You look like you’ve had a few long nights.”

  “Oh, that’s rich,” I smiled.

  “I find it suits me.”