The Coma Prince’s Fiancée novel Chapter 11

The Russell mansion was understated luxury—every detail curated, nothing accidental. Rebecca could see it everywhere she looked. Even the sculpture tucked into a stairwell corner wasn’t decoration—it was an eight-figure piece.

If this had been at the Jameses’ place, something that valuable would be locked away or at least displayed front and center. There, it would never just sit in a corner, gathering dust like it didn’t matter.

Madonna took Rebecca’s hand and led her upstairs, stopping in front of a bedroom. She opened the door slowly and shot her a nervous smile. “Rebecca, I had no idea what style you liked. I just went with what I thought you’d enjoy, but if it’s not your thing, I’ll change it right away.”

Rebecca looked around the room. The decor was fresh and bright, but it also felt warm and welcoming. She noticed how anxious Madonna looked and, for some reason, her heart clenched a little. “No, you don’t have to change a thing. I really like it,” she said softly.

Madonna lit up with relief. “Great! As long as you’re happy. You must be exhausted, so get some rest. Tomorrow morning, I’ll make you your favorite…” She trailed off, her happiness faltering as a sudden sadness crossed her face.

She didn’t know what Rebecca liked to eat.

Rebecca pressed her lips together, then finally said, “For breakfast, I like pasta.”

Madonna’s eyes grew misty, but she smiled anyway. “Okay, I’ll make you pasta in the morning.”

As soon as Madonna left and the door closed, Rebecca’s expression shifted back to neutral. She strolled around the room for a bit, then collapsed onto the sofa. She tapped her Bluetooth earpiece. “You called in a hurry. What’s up?”

Odom Blair’s voice came through the line. “Someone from the White family wants you to check on a patient. They’re offering thirty million just for the house call. Treatment fees not included.”

“No.” Rebecca didn’t even think about it.

She barely tolerated dealing with powerful families. Too much drama. Too many complications.

Odom sounded exasperated. “Are you sure? I heard Mr. White finally woke up—the one who’s been unresponsive for three years. He’s a big deal. If you turn him down, even the one they call “R” might have trouble staying in Harrisburg.”

Rebecca didn’t sound the least bit worried. “If that ever happens, I’ll just do something else. Besides, I’m not in Harrisburg anymore.”

Odom huffed. “Yeah, right, like it’d matter. With how many secret identities you’ve got, you could rotate through one a day for a month and nobody would find out.”

Joking aside, Odom suddenly remembered something else. “By the way, Mr. White went to the Jameses’ house today. Jackson nearly fainted, he was so worked up.”

“He went to the Jameses’?” Rebecca’s eyes narrowed a little. She couldn’t help thinking of that guy she’d bumped into earlier.

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