When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie) novel Chapter 78

I was frantically sorting through documents while continuously ringing up Clyde, but eventually, his phone just went dead.

My heart sank. I checked in with Gemma, who thought Clyde had probably gone home to grab some files, prompting me to rush back to our apartment.

"Clyde, are you here? Clyde?"

The place was dark, no signs of anyone being home.

But spotting the shoe prints in the living room, I was certain Clyde had been there.

I hurried into the bedroom, and there he was, unconscious on the bed, unresponsive no matter how much I shook him.

Feeling his wrist, I sighed in relief finding a pulse.

With the Patterson Group facing such turmoil, something felt off. If Clyde was in trouble now, it could spell disaster for the entire firm.

I quickly dialed 911, then reached out to the building's management.

"I'm Mrs. Patterson, Clyde's wife. He's been attacked in our building. I need access to all the security footage now!"

"The woman he brought home is a prime suspect. If you try to cover for her, you'll be joining her behind bars!"

It was my first time leveraging my status as Mrs. Patterson, and it took the other end by surprise. They immediately started to apologize, promising to check the security footage right away.

I couldn't figure out why Clyde was unconscious, but a faint scent of perfume lingered on him, strikingly similar to Kayla's, my once favorite fragrance. I had bumped into Kayla earlier, enveloped in that very scent.

When the paramedics arrived, I followed them into the ambulance.

After the doctors examined him, it turned out Clyde had ingested a significant amount of sleeping pills.

The doctor looked at me uncomfortably, "Mrs. Patterson, given the rumors about your company... we thought maybe your husband..."

"No way, that's not him."

I firmly dismissed the suggestion. Clyde was neither cowardly nor irresponsible.

With a crisis at the site, his priority would be to console the family of the deceased and investigate the cause. The idea of him taking his own life was unthinkable to me.

The doctor nodded, handing me a consent form.

"He needs his stomach pumped, and there might be other procedures needed. We need your signature."

Holding the pen, my hand trembled, but I took a deep breath to steady myself.

I knew what Clyde meant to the Patterson family, and I couldn't let him die on my watch.

The doctors suspected other drugs might be involved, so immediate awakening wasn't possible, pending further tests.

Ensuring his vital signs were stable, I finally breathed easier.

As long as he could wake up, we could handle anything.

But with Clyde out, the site issue couldn't be ignored.

The project manager had called me earlier, saying the victim's family had brought the press to make a scene, and to my surprise, York had beaten me there.

Watching the live stream, York looked prepared, his suit crisp, hair slicked back.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Patterson Group will handle this situation with the utmost care," York declared, pledging a resolution within three days on behalf of the company, even offering to personally compensate if necessary.

York, the Laird's son, whom I never had much faith in, seemed to be overstepping his bounds. Despite Clyde's belief in York's decency, my instincts told me otherwise.

The fact that York, an outsider, dared to speak for the Patterson Group while actual project managers were on site was outrageous.

Turning off my phone, I looked towards Clyde, still in a deep slumber.

"Once this mess is sorted, you can rest all you want. But for now, could you please wake up?"