Filed to story: The CEO’s Wife Is a Secret Boss Novel (Allison & Jeremy) Free Online
Jameson’s pale, chapped lips uttered, ‘Can vigorous treatment cure me?”
The doctor looked down, hesitating.
“My disease is incurable, and I don’t have long to live, do I?” Jameson forced a smile. A mix of emptiness and the fear of death formed an invisible net around him, trapping him in despair.
“Don’t be so pessimistic. If you were to be subject to vigorous treatment-
“Just tell me how much longer do I have?”
The doctor choked, “At most… half a year.”
Jameson closed his eyes and guffawed.
“The medications you were taking before didn’t heal you. They only masked your symptoms. They’ve even damaged your organs,” the doctor sighed. “In other words, what you consumed was a slow poison, highly addictive, creating a dependency. It’s like pancreatic cancer-by the time you notice it, it’s already too late.”
Jameson lowered his gaze, crumpling the report into a ball, squeezing it tightly as if he could crush the dreadful reality in his grip. “So, my life is ending like this?”
He slowly lifted his eyes toward the windowsill. The black rose he had nurtured so carefully for Alyssa reflected a dim, faint glow.
“Everything I gained came at a steep price. The fame and admiration I’ve enjoyed these past ten years were bought with my life.”
When Justin helped him, he saw it as a gesture of kindness and recognition. But in truth, he had sold his soul to the devil.
“I’ve never feared death. I just can’t bear to…” Thoughts of Alyssa filled his mind, and he broke down, tears streaming as his heart shattered once more.
She despised him for what he had become-for his cruelty, for the blood on his hands. But how could he have ever returned to her side if he had remained the weak, kind, and innocent Jimmy of the past?
How could he be a good man…
As Jameson cried, laughter bubbled up from within him, twisting his anguished face.
The Jameson of the past had already drained himself in trying to live as a good person. Why was he still thinking of that now?
Alyssa had always had everything. Loving parents and siblings, loyal friends who stood by her.
But what about Jameson?
She could never be him. She could never understand him.
But before Jameson could sink deeper into his sorrow, a voice cried out urgently from the other side of the door,” Mr. Schmidt, I have bad news! Ms. Alyssa started up the helicopter. She’s escaping from the island!”
As night fell, fierce winds swept over the pitch-black skies, pressing down heavily on the endless sea. The surging waves hinted at an impending storm, with all life rising and falling as though it could be consumed, crushed, and destroyed at any moment.
Waves crashed against the beach on Rose Island.
Alyssa didn’t have time to change out of her fiery red dress before scrambling into the helicopter parked on the shore. Though she had regained some energy, her body remained weak. But she knew she couldn’t afford to hesitate.
Jameson hadn’t come with her next tranquilizer shot tonight. This was her one chance to escape!
The memory of flying a helicopter was faint, buried in the past, but she had to try. She had to fight with everything she had, even if it meant death.
Alyssa slipped into the cockpit, her breath caught in her throat. The red dress she wore was soaked in cold sweat. She checked the fuel gauge, started the ignition, and the helicopter’s blades began to rotate.
“Alyssa Taylor, you will leave this place. Hang in there… You can do it!” she muttered, clenching her teeth as she gripped the control stick, her knuckles turning white.
“Lyse!”
Jameson, pale-faced, screamed her name as he sprinted toward the helicopter.
Alyssa’s gaze locked onto him, cold and unyielding. Her reddened eyes burned with a hatred deeper than the stormy seas.
“Goodbye, Jameson!”
As the helicopter lifted off the ground, three shots rang out behind her. The sound of the waves and the roar of the helicopter drowned out the gunfire, but a bullet whizzed past Alyssa’s head, shattering the windshield.
Jameson’s eyes widened in terror. “No! Stop!” he yelled.
Staring at the bullet hole, memories of that brutal shootout on the Luminara battlefield flooded back, sending her heart racing and her body trembling. But she tightened her grip on the control stick, her desperation to escape overcoming all fear.
Another three shots followed, cold and ruthless, as if they intended to end her life right there.
But the bullets missed Alyssa. Instead, they struck the helicopter’s engine. Fuel began to leak, and error lights blinked furiously on the cockpit screens.
“Damn it! Asshole!” Alyssa cursed, pounding on the windows in frustration.
The propellers slowed to a stop, and everything fell silent.
Only the sound of waves continued. It was as if the waves were mocking her at her failed escape attempt.
Jameson slumped over, drained of energy. Despite this, he glared furiously at Remy, who approached with an emotionless expression.
He knew Remy had fired to stop the helicopter, but had he considered that Alyssa could have died if his aim had been off?
Remy walked to the cockpit door and opened it forcefully. Inside, Alyssa sat like a fragile doll, her eyes staring vacantly ahead, tears streaming down her face.
Remy’s dark eyes met hers. “Come out.”
Alyssa’s gaze shifted to him. She heaved, struggling to catch her breath, her face pale as death. Traumatized, she was catatonic and unable to move.
She stared blankly at Remy, her lips parted slightly, tears streaming down her face.
Remy frowned deeply. He leaned into the cockpit and, with his strong arms, lifted Alyssa’s limp body in a princess carry.
“Put me down…” she muttered, her fingers curling into weak fists as she tried to push against his chest.
Remy’s gaze remained indifferent. Then, suddenly, he loosened his grip.
Alyssa’s heart seized in panic. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled up in his arms.
Remy’s hold tightened once again, securing her in his arms. Only then did Alyssa realize he had just been trying to scare her.
“I want to go home,” she whispered.
Tears welled up in Alyssa’s eyes as she clung desperately to Remy’s shirt, wrinkling it in her grip. “I miss Dad and my brothers. I miss Jeremy… Please let me go home… Okay? Please…
Remy listened in silence, his steps firm and unyielding, offering no response.
“Return Lyse to me!” Jameson, unaware of how he looked, chased after them frantically and blocked Remy’s path, his eyes bloodshot with desperation.
“You haven’t married Ms. Alyssa yet. Technically, she’s not yours.” Remy stared at Jameson’s pale face, his gaze calm and unbothered. “And if I handed her to you, do you think you could carry her?
Jameson trembled, his weak body betraying him as he withdrew his shaking hands.
Though Alyssa was physically and mentally drained, her mind was unusually clear after the recent shock. Remy’s words hinted at something deeper. Was Jameson’s body deteriorating to the point of collapse?
The sea breeze was growing stronger, howling through the night.
Remy continued walking, holding Alyssa securely in his arms.
After a while, noticing that she had stopped crying, he spoke coldly, “There’s going to be a hurricane at midnight.” Alyssa opened her bleary eyes, looking up at Remy’s chiseled jawline.
“If you had left earlier by the chopper, you would’ve found yourself dead at sea tonight.” The look in Remy’s eyes dimmed, and he continued walking forward.
Alyssa’s heart skipped a beat, a mix of surprise and fear washing over her. Without a phone or computer, she had no way of checking the weather forecast for the coastal areas.
“If there wasn’t going to be a hurricane, would you have let me go?” she asked with a gentle quiver in her voice. “I don’t mind sharing this with you.”
Alyssa blinked, her puffy eyes filled with anticipation. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the man before her was Damien. Deep down, she might have already started seeing him that way.
She held onto a sliver of hope that, even after being wounded and possibly losing his memory, the kind, cheerful, and upright character she once knew still existed somewhere within him, never fully extinguished.
“My purpose in coming here was to stop you from being with Jameson.” Remy’s gaze was as deep as the sea as he looked down at her. “That was Sir’s order.”
“So… even if the winds were calm tonight, you would’ve stopped me anyway?”
“Yes,” he answered without any hesitation.
