Rebirth Of The Heiress And The Tycoon's Lover (Alina) novel Chapter 339

**Collapsed 339**

**AUTHOR’S POV.**

Alina stirred awake, a wave of certainty washing over her like a warm embrace.

There was no fog clouding her thoughts, no lingering confusion to muddy her mind. Just a profound clarity that felt almost foreign after the chaos of recent days.

She blinked against the soft morning light that filtered through the heavy curtains, her gaze landing on the ceiling she had come to know so intimately in Evergreen Mansion. The soft ivory moldings framed the room like a delicate painting, and the crystal chandelier hung low, its light dimmed as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to unfold.

Though her body felt weak and her head still throbbed with fatigue, her mind was sharp, cutting through the haze that had enveloped her for far too long.

He was real.

The thought echoed in her mind as she pushed herself up with effort, her heart racing. The memory was vivid, too vivid to be dismissed as a mere figment of her imagination. The rain had poured down relentlessly, chilling her to the bone. But it was his voice that had pierced through the fog that had settled in her mind, grounding her in a way nothing else could. And the warmth of his hands had felt so solid, so undeniably real.

Lucian.

“Why didn’t you wait?” she murmured to the empty room, her voice a fragile whisper laced with tremors. “Why didn’t you wait for me to wake up?”

He was her lifeline, the only one capable of pulling her from the depths of this madness that threatened to consume her entirely. The engagement that felt like a noose around her neck, Cassian’s relentless pursuit, and her father’s obsession with control—it was all too much.

Lucian could fix this.

With a surge of determination, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the room tilting momentarily before righting itself. She didn’t care. She strode across the room with purpose, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached for the door.

But the handle refused to budge.

Frowning, she twisted it again, frustration bubbling inside her. “Hello?” she called out, her voice echoing in the silence. “What is this?”

Silence enveloped her once more.

Then, with mounting desperation, she pounded her fist against the door. “Hey! Open this door!”

A pause, heavy and suffocating.

Footsteps echoed outside, and a voice filtered through the barrier, low and unyielding. “Miss Dahli.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Why is my door locked?”

There was a moment of hesitation that made her heart race.

“We have orders to keep it locked.”

“What?” she exclaimed, disbelief flooding her. “Why?”

Silence hung thick in the air.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice rising in pitch. “Answer me!”

Nothing but silence met her frantic pleas.

They were gone… or perhaps feigning ignorance.

Her heart raced as she stepped back from the door, whispering in disbelief, “No… no, no…”

She turned swiftly and rushed to her bedside table, her breath hitching. Where was her phone? It should have been right there, just as it always was.

But it was nowhere to be found.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as she checked again. The table. The drawer. Beneath the lamp.

Nothing.

She darted to the vanity, sweeping her hands across the surface, but it remained empty.

“No. No. No.” Her voice escalated with each word. “Where the hell is my phone?”

She tore through the room, flinging open drawers, checking under pillows, and searching beneath the bed. In a fit of desperation, she overturned a chair and rummaged through her bag.

Still nothing.

Her breathing quickened, panic clawing its way up her throat, sharp and suffocating.

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