APOCALYPSE AND THE BILLIONAIRE HEIR

CHAPTER 0004

                                           Adam Smith

The old man and the doctor left shortly after the argument, followed by two of the three nurses. The third stayed behind. She changed the urinary drainage bag and replaced my bedsheets and pillowcase. Then she announced, “You have a visitor. She’s waiting outside. She wants to see you.”

She? Who could she be?

The nurse patted my arm and turned to leave, but I grabbed her hand, causing her to pivot toward me, her brows raised in mild query. I freed her hand and let out a gentle breath.

“What happened to me?” I asked curiously. “How did I end up here?”

Her face softened into a warm smile. She took my hand and caressed it gently. “Like the doctor said, you were in an accident, but you are alright now.”

Her words brought hope. They were the first female words I had heard since I woke from the nightmare they called three years in a coma. It felt comforting. I wanted her to stay and keep me company in the room, and maybe follow me to wherever the old man called home. But first, I had to know her before I made my desire known.

“Do you have a name?” I asked.

Her narrow Asian eyes squinted slightly, and a broad smile brightened her kind face. “My name is Hua.”

I smiled. “Hua, will you follow me home?” I asked.

Hua gently freed my hand and shot me a deeper smile. She was definitely not buying the idea. The smile was a gracious decline, but I understood—she had to.

“I will bring in your visitor, sir,” she bowed her head. “Your grandfather will call for us if you need anything.”

She left. I watched her every step, liking every bit of it. But the door ended the delight as it snapped shut behind her. I exhaled. Finally, I felt human. And she just said the old man is my grandfather.

Oh. If he’s my grandfather, then where is my father? Was he involved in the accident they spoke of? And what about the zombies pulling me into a goo of rotten blood in my dream?

I swallowed hard, feeling my throat tighten once again.

The door creaked open. My gaze drifted to it once more.

A young lady, tall and slender, dressed in Asian silk patterned with flowers designed to suit her graceful shape, stepped in. The clicks of her black stilettos echoed in my head.

For the love of God, I thought it was another beautiful Asian woman—until I looked up and saw her face. She wasn’t Asian. She was American, but with striking beauty, robbing me of every thought of Hua, the nurse who had just left.

Her dark brown hair was neatly rolled into a bun, and her glinting round earrings and silver necklace complemented her elegance.

For the first time since I woke, I felt truly alive. I had wanted Hua to come home with me because she looked kind and appealing, but the lady who just stepped in was a pure gem.

But as she caught sight of me lying in bed, her beautiful face broke into tears, startling me on the spot.

Fuck! Another sympathizer.

She slowly inched closer, grabbed my hands, leaned in on me, and sobbed into my arms for over a minute. Then she looked up, eyes wet with tears. “Adam,” she called gently, kissing my hand. “It’s been three years. Three years of waiting. Three years of praying. Three years of believing you would come back to me.”

She kissed my hands again.

For a second, I was confused, but I could tell from all the kisses that she was either my wife or my fiancée. I couldn’t remember anything, but she was acting completely loved up.

I held her soft hand, feeling the warmth in my palm. “Who are you?”

She paused, then broke into tears again. I must have hurt her with that question, but I had to ask. I needed to know if I had a wife before the accident, or if she was a girlfriend who had waited three long years for a man in a coma.

She finally spoke through her weeping. “I’m Rosa, your fiancée.”

Her words struck a chord. The nightmare from last night flashed in my mind—mainly the part of her bewildered face morphing into a betraying smile, then the strong hands appearing on her shoulders and around her waist. I shook off the thought.

It was a mere nightmare. Nothing I should take seriously.

“Rosa,” I whispered, touching her face. “What happened to me? Why did you have to wait for three years?”

She hesitated, then spoke. “This is definitely not the right time to talk about it, Adam.” She held my face with both hands and kissed my cheek. “You should get some rest. What matters now is that you are awake.”

“Yes,” the old man’s voice echoed from the doorway. “And he’s going home with me tonight.”

My gaze drifted toward the doorpost as Rosa turned to meet the old man’s eyes. My grandfather, as the nurse had said, was not here for drama. He was serious, and his demeanor suggested he detested the young lady.

Maybe that was why Rosa had to announce her presence through a nurse. But seeing her leaning on me in bed, his brows dropped helplessly.

“You are here?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Conrad,” she replied. “To check on my man, only to realize he’s awake and no one bothered to call me.”

My grandfather waved a hand dismissively, as if her words were flies he wouldn’t let through his nostrils. He walked toward the bed, ignoring her gaze and focusing on me.

“Adam,” he said calmly, “you are going home tonight.”

“I am coming with him,” Rosa debated, eyes ready for conflict.

My grandfather gave her a dismissive glare. He looked like he could have punched her in the face for insisting she would come with me, but he chose to be restrained.

“We are going home tonight,” I uttered, unsure why we had to leave tonight—or even where home was. “And she’s coming with us.”

My grandfather nodded. “Jack is on his way to pick us up,” he announced, then left the room.

Rosa turned to me and caressed my face. “You will be alright, Adam.”

She kissed my cheek one more time and rubbed my chest while I pondered the reason my grandfather was silently hostile toward her.