My Husband Called Me Repulsive After I Saved His Life—Then the Billionaire Who Owned His Company Summoned Me

I read the message again.

Then a third time.

*Please don't trust Gideon Ashford. He knows what happened that night, too.*

For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the blood pounding in my ears.

Gideon stood beside the window, speaking quietly into his phone. His reflection looked calm, almost indifferent.

Too calm.

“Who are you talking to?”” I asked.

He ended the call.

“Daniel.””

“Did you know Dr. Helena Morris?””

“Yes.””

“Did you know she was involved in my original medical examination?””

“I knew she was your surgeon.””

“That's not what I asked.””

Gideon studied my face.

I held up my phone.

“Someone claiming to be Dr. Morris says you know what happened the night of the fire.””

His expression didn't change immediately.

But his silence did.

It lasted just long enough.

“Vivian, you need to understand something.””

“No. I think I've spent five years understanding things that weren't true. This time, I want answers.””

He walked toward the table.

“Five years ago, I received a call from the hospital. They told me Preston had been rescued from a burning building and that his wife was in critical condition.””

“Why would they call you?””

“Because Preston was an executive at a company in which I had invested heavily. He was also scheduled to attend an important meeting with me the following morning.””

I frowned.

“What happened after that?””

“I went to the hospital.””

I remembered the first weeks after the fire only in fragments. Pain medication. Bright lights.

Nurses whispering. My mother's old necklace resting in a plastic bag beside the bed.

“Did you visit me?””

“Yes. You were unconscious.””

“Did you speak to Dr. Morris?””

“Briefly.””

“What did she tell you?””

Gideon hesitated.

“She told me your injuries weren't entirely consistent with the official account of the accident.””

My stomach tightened.

“And?””

“She asked me whether I knew what Preston had been doing in the building that evening.””

I stared at him.

“What did you say?””

“That I didn't.””

“Did you believe her?””

“I believed she was frightened.””

“Of whom?””

He looked away.

“Preston.””

The room suddenly felt too small.

I walked toward the window.

“So you knew something was wrong, but you let me go home with him.””

“I had no proof that he had harmed you.””

“You could have told me.””

“You were recovering from thirteen surgeries. Your husband was the only person you believed you could trust. If I had made an accusation without evidence, I would have given him an excuse to isolate you even further.””

I turned sharply.

“You don't get to decide what I can handle.””

Gideon lowered his head.

“You're right.””

His answer surprised me.

He didn't defend himself.

He didn't tell me he had acted for my protection.

He simply accepted it.

“I should have told you what Dr. Morris said,” he continued.

“I'm sorry.””

Before I could respond, his phone rang.

Daniel Cross.

Gideon answered.

“What have you found?””

A pause.

Then his expression hardened.

“Where?””

He listened.

“Don't approach her alone. I'm sending someone.””

He ended the call.

“What happened?”” I asked.

“Dr. Morris was seen entering a private medical facility in Brooklyn yesterday.””

“Yesterday?””

“Yes. Daniel traced the sender's email through an account associated with the facility.””

“Then let's go.””

Gideon shook his head.

“Not yet.””

I folded my arms.

“Gideon.””

“Vivian, whoever sent that message knows we're investigating. Walking into a building without knowing who is waiting inside would be reckless.””

“I've spent five years being told to stay home because the world is too dangerous for me.””

“I'm not telling you to stay home.””

“Then what are you telling me?””

He looked directly at me.

“I'm telling you that this time, we'll go prepared.””

An hour later, we arrived at a discreet medical building near Brooklyn Heights.

Daniel had arranged for two security officers to meet us outside.

The facility looked abandoned from the street, but lights glowed behind several windows.

A receptionist recognized Gideon immediately.

“Mr. Ashford. Dr. Morris is expecting you.””

I stepped forward.

“Is she expecting me, too?””

The receptionist looked at me.

Then nodded.

“She specifically requested that you come.””

We were led down a narrow corridor to a consultation room.

A woman stood beside the window.

Her dark hair was streaked with gray. She wore a simple navy cardigan over her white blouse.

When she turned, I recognized her immediately.

“Dr. Morris?””

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Vivian.””

I crossed the room.

“Why did you disappear?””

She looked at Gideon.

“I'd rather speak to her alone.””

Gideon nodded.

“I'll wait outside.””

Once the door closed, Dr. Morris pulled out a chair.

“Please sit.””

I remained standing.

“You wrote that Gideon knows what happened. You wrote that I shouldn't trust him. Explain.””

She opened a drawer and removed a thick blue medical folder.

“This is your original hospital file.””

I stared at it.

“Why wasn't it in the hospital archives?””

“Because someone tried to remove it.””

She opened the folder.

The first pages contained familiar information: surgical procedures, medication records, photographs of my injuries.

Then she turned to a page I had never seen.

A handwritten note appeared beneath the initial trauma assessment.

Multiple blunt-force injuries detected prior to thermal trauma. Patient's husband requested that details not be disclosed until patient is medically stable.

My knees weakened.

“Preston requested that?””

“Yes.””

“Why?””

Dr. Morris swallowed.

“Because he told us you had fallen during the evacuation.””

“But I didn't fall.””

“I know.””

She turned another page.

There was a photograph of my left shoulder, taken before the first operation.

A deep bruise appeared beneath the burned skin.

I stared at it.

“Someone hit me.””

“Yes.””

“Who?””

Dr. Morris looked down.

“Preston was the one who brought you into the emergency department. But he wasn't the only person who accompanied you.””

My mouth went dry.

“Who else?””

“An unidentified man in a dark coat. He left before the police arrived.””

“Did you report him?””

“I tried.””

She opened a second folder.

Inside was a copy of an incident report.

Someone had crossed out several lines in red ink.

“I contacted the hospital administrator. Two days later, I was ordered to amend your medical notes. I refused.””

“And that's why you left?””

She nodded.

“Someone threatened my daughter.””

I felt a chill.

“Who?””

“An attorney representing a company connected to Hale & Sterling. He told me that if I continued asking questions, my daughter would lose her scholarship and I would face criminal charges for mishandling patient records.””

I looked at her.

“Why didn't you go to the police?””

“I did. But the original fire investigator had already classified the incident as accidental. The hospital administrator refused to cooperate. And I had no physical evidence connecting Preston to the injuries.””

She reached into the folder.

Then she placed a small photograph in front of me.

It showed Preston standing beside a black car outside our apartment building.

A second man stood beside him.

I recognized him from Gideon's earlier photograph.

Victor Lang.

My breath caught.

“Victor?””

Dr. Morris nodded.

“That's the man who accompanied Preston to the hospital.””

I stared at the photograph.

“Why would Preston bring him?””