Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law

Chapter 320: I Am Not

"You have to be careful. She’s still deeply traumatized-not just from the accident, but possibly from the way your people kidnapped her here. That whole experience would have added to her distress. So you need to tread lightly. Be very, very careful."

"But I was careful. I was only holding her hand...", the man said slowly as he looked down at the frail woman sleeping on the bed but the doctor cut him off slowly, "That may be, but you can’t risk doing anything that might unsettle her. Right now, her blood pressure is dangerously high, Cadance. It’s not safe- not for her body, and certainly not for her brain. There’s still some residual swelling, and if the pressure continues to rise, it could cause a blood vessel to rupture. A burst artery in the brain would be catastrophic."

Cadance’s jaw tensed, but he nodded. "I understand. I’ll be careful. I promise."

The doctor gave a short nod in return, his expression easing only slightly. "Good. That’s important—for both of you."

He glanced at the monitors once more before continuing, "Also, try to keep her as calm and relaxed as possible. No sudden stress, no surprises, no emotional triggers. And don’t let her talk, not yet. It might seem harmless, but even speaking could put strain on her system right now."

Cadance frowned. "Then how is she supposed to—"

"Keep a notepad and a pen nearby," the doctor interrupted, voice low but firm. "Let her write down whatever she wants to say. It’s the safest way for her to communicate until the swelling goes down and the pressure stabilizes."

Cadance’s eyes flicked to the small table beside the bed. He gave another slow nod. "Alright. I’ll make sure of it."

"Good." The doctor took one last look at the sleeping woman before turning away. "Call if anything changes." noveldrama

The man nodded silently and walked the doctor to the door, murmuring a quiet thanks before closing it behind him. He returned to the chair beside Melody’s bed and sank into it with a heavy sigh, his eyes fixed on her pale, still face.

"I’m so sorry, my sweetheart," he whispered, his voice low and rough with guilt. "I didn’t think those idiots would actually hurt you just to bring you here. I swear, I only told them to bring you—nothing more. I never imagined they’d go so far, never thought they’d cause an accident that would leave you like this."

His fingers curled slightly against the edge of the bed as he leaned forward, eyes scanning the bruises on her skin, the tubes, the machines. "I should have known better. I should’ve stopped them. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen... not like this. I know I should have come directly to you. But I was so angry..."

As the man spoke, he failed to notice the figure on the bed twitch ever so slightly.

Melanie dared not open her eyes. The moment she’d regained consciousness, she had heard the strange man speaking in a low voice full of remorse about how he had been the one responsible for her accident... and then for having her brought here. Kidnapped her. The words sank in slowly, chilling her from the inside out.

What she didn’t understand was why. Why would this man whom she didn’t recognize at all-go to such lengths? Why cause an accident just to take her? And what was the meaning of all this... keeping her here in the hospital, holding her hand and calling her Mel?

Her first thought had been ransom. Maybe he was after money. Maybe he planned to extort Adam. But as he continued speaking—apologizing, talking about bringing her back himself, about how he hadn’t meant for her to get hurt—she realized this wasn’t about money.

This was something else entirely. Something far more personal.

And that was when a memory flickered—hazy and fragmented—right before she had lost consciousness again. The man... he had called her Mel... Mel for Melody and not Melanie.

Melanie’s heart skipped a beat. He thought she was someone else. He thinks I’m Melody.

The realization struck her like a jolt, and before she could stop herself, her body jerked involuntarily. The sudden movement didn’t go unnoticed.

She felt his presence shift immediately. Then, his hand closed around hers and her eyes snapped open, panic surging through her as she stared up at him. That same thought kept echoing in her head, louder now, more frantic: He thinks I’m Melody.

She tried to pull her hand away, tried to speak, tried to make a sound-anything-but he was faster. Before she could even part her lips, his hand clamped down over her mouth, cutting off her voice as he said," Don’t say anything."

Already, she could feel her body tense under his grip. The weight of his palm, large and suffocating, pressed hard against her face, making it difficult to breathe. Instinct kicked in. With all the strength she could muster, she bit down—hard—into the flesh of his palm.

He yelped, recoiling at once, and ripped his hand away, staring down at her in shock before he stared at her softly and dangerously," My my, Melody. You’ve grown claws. Or rather I should say teeth..."

As he spoke, he looked down at the angry red mark forming on his palm, flexing his fingers slowly before glancing back up at her. A smile spread across his lips and Melanie felt herself shiver in fear.

"You’re sick right now, so I won’t punish you for this," he said, voice still eerily calm. "But later... later, I’ll remember. And so will you."

Melanie’s heart thundered in her chest as she tried again to speak, her lips parting in desperation, but he was already moving. His hand clamped back over her mouth, silencing her a second time. She thrashed, her jaw tightening, ready to bite him again-when suddenly he pulled away, lifting his hand just out of reach.

"The doctor said you’re not supposed to talk, Mel," he said, as if he hadn’t just threatened her. His tone had shifted again-lighter, falsely sweet, patronizing. "Here. Take this."

He reached to the side and picked up a small notepad and pen, then held them out to her. "Write whatever you want. Just don’t use that pretty mouth yet."

Melanie’s eyes flicked between the notepad and the man’s face, trying to steady her breathing. Then, without a word, she snatched the pad from his hand and gripped the pen tightly.

Her fingers trembled as she scribbled in hurried, slanted letters, "I am not Melody. My name is Melanie."