The Wife He Forgot to Marry (Winona and Yule) novel Chapter 602

Just yesterday, Ophelia Powell had called her with a vicious ultimatum: destroy Forrest Kane's left hand and ruin his career, or she would leak every dirty secret of Giselle's messy past to the press.

Giselle hadn't wanted to do it, but Ophelia had cornered her. She had no choice. She'd picked this hallway specifically because it was a security blind spot. Forrest had been drinking, the lighting was terrible, and there was no way he'd ever identify the men who did this.

***

When Winona heard about the attack, she rushed to the hospital straight after work.

Forrest was sitting up in bed, his gaze fixed blankly on his heavily casted left arm. Simone sat beside him, her eyes swollen and red, radiating pure anxiety.

Ever since he'd woken up that morning and heard the doctor's grim prognosis, Forrest hadn't said a word. The silence was suffocating. Unable to take it anymore, Simone choked out, "Forrest, we'll find a better doctor. We'll fly in specialists. Your arm is going to be fine."

Forrest didn't look up. "Simone... we need to break up."

She stared at him, devastated. "What? What are you talking about? Are you trying to push me away?"

He offered a bitter, broken smile. He'd always believed his future was blindingly bright, that he could build a beautiful, comfortable life for her. But now? His hand was useless. His career in research was over. He refused to be an anchor dragging her down.

Simone fiercely wiped her tears, her anger spiking. "You think you're a burden, don't you? Newsflash, Forrest—I don't care about the money! If you never work another day in your life, I'll support us."

"You deserve better, Simone," he whispered.

She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "To me, you are the best."

Winona hesitated in the doorway, feeling like an intruder. Simone spotted her and gently pulled back. "Winona. You made it."

Stepping into the room, Winona cut right to the chase. "What exactly happened? Who did this? Have you called the cops?"

"I saw two guys roughing up a woman in a hotel hallway," Forrest explained hollowly. "I stepped in, and the next thing I knew, my arm was crushed. I'd had a few drinks, things were blurry... I didn't get a good look at their faces. The hotel staff said the corridor was a blind spot for their cameras. They're ghosts."

Winona frowned. This didn't sound like a random bar fight. It sounded terrifyingly deliberate. Someone had wanted to cripple him.

The owner's attitude vanished instantly. He ushered them into the back office. As they scrubbed through the time-stamped video, Winona caught a grainy, distorted view of the hotel hallway window. She hit pause. There, captured in the blur, was the side profile of a woman.

Winona squinted. "I know her. I've seen her before... I just can't place the name."

Simone gritted her teeth. "If all we have is a blurry side profile, how are we ever going to get justice for Forrest?"

"Wait," Winona said, her mind clicking into gear. "She left the hotel at 9:10 PM. She had to have gone straight to the parking garage. We know her outfit and her hair. We can track her on the garage cameras."

Simone slapped another ten grand onto the manager's desk to ensure his silence, and they headed back to the hotel. After some aggressive monetary persuasion, the hotel's night manager reluctantly pulled up the garage tapes.

This time, the camera angle was crystal clear.

Winona stared at the screen, her blood running cold. "It's Giselle Reed."