CHAPTER 313: AUGUSTINE IS IN A COMA

At the hospital...

The moment the man ended his phone call and turned to slip away unnoticed, a strong hand clamped over him from behind. A rag pressed tightly over his mouth and nose, cutting off his breath. He struggled for only a few seconds before the world went black and his body went limp.

A tall figure in a ward boy’s uniform, his face partially hidden behind a surgical mask, hoisted the unconscious man into a wheelchair and pushed him toward the elevator, disappearing without drawing attention.

Completely unaware of what had just unfolded, Anne lay resting in her room. Fatigue had pulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep, and she didn’t know how long she had been out until a soft, familiar voice broke through.

"Anne..."

She opened her eyes slowly, and she found her mother standing by her bed. "Mom," she murmured.

"My dear," Margaret whispered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I didn’t want to wake you... But the surgery is over." Her voice faltered.

"Surgery is over," Anne repeated quickly, sitting upright. "How is he? Take me to him—I want to see him."

"Calm down..." Margaret reached out, holding her hand to keep her still. "He is under observation. The doctors aren’t allowing anyone inside. Something is wrong..." She trailed off, worry and fear evident in her face.

A cold shiver swept through Anne when she saw her mother hesitating. "What happened to him?" she demanded, her stomach hollowing out. "Tell me the truth."

Margaret’s lips quivered as she spoke. "He is... in a coma."

The words landed like a hammer blow.

Anne felt as if her mind had shattered into pieces. "Coma?" she whispered. The strength seemed to drain from her limbs. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks in an endless stream.

Her foster father had spent years in a coma, and she knew all too well the agony of waiting, the helplessness of not knowing if a loved one would ever open their eyes again.

But this time, it was Augustine. He was supposed to be by her side, especially now, when she was carrying his child.

"I want to see him," she burst out with desperation. "He can’t just lie there as if nothing matters. He can’t leave me like this... Take me to him."

"Anne, sweetheart, listen to me," Margaret urged gently. "You need to calm down for the baby’s sake. Augustine will wake up. The doctors are doing everything they can to bring him back."

But the comfort didn’t reach her. Anne’s sobs only grew more violent. She longed to be by his side, to speak to him, to plead with him to wake up.

"You’ll have to wait before you can see him," Margaret reasoned, wrapping her arms around her daughter. "Please, calm yourself."

"Why is this happening?" Anne cried. "He was right there with me and then—just like that... Why? He could have escaped, but he didn’t... And now this... Mom..."

Her hands clasped together in a trembling, desperate prayer. "I can’t live without him. Please... do something."

Margaret’s chest clenched painfully, each sob from Anne cutting deeper into her own heart. A throbbing pressure pulsed through her head, her vision wavering in and out of focus. Restlessness churned inside her, threatening to spill over.

She wanted to scream but found her throat locked tight; she wanted to hold Anne and soothe her, but her body trembled uncontrollably. The control she fought to maintain was slipping fast.

Her hands began to quiver, her pulse hammering wildly.

Anne noticed the change instantly and stopped crying. "Mom. Are you okay?" The grief in her eyes shifted to worry in an instant.

But Margaret couldn’t answer. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly as if the words were trapped. Her hand flew to her chest as a crushing weight settled there, stealing her breath. Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead.

Anne’s heart lurched. She thought her mother was having a panic attack. Guilt stabbed at her; she shouldn’t have broken down like that in front of her.

"Where is your medicine? Did you bring it?"

Margaret could barely draw air, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

Frantic, Anne grabbed her mother’s bag from the side table and dug through it with trembling fingers. She found a small vial and pulled it out. She checked it quickly, then shook a few pills into her palm.

"Open your mouth," she urged, leaning closer. She placed the pills on Margaret’s tongue, then reached for the glass of water nearby. "Take slow sips." She guided the glass to her lips.

Margaret swallowed, her hand still clutching her chest. She sat still with her eyes closed, focusing on each breath. Slowly, the frantic pounding in her chest eased, her breathing steadied, and the tight band around her throat loosened. The suffocating weight that had been crushing her began to lift.

"I’m sorry," Margaret managed. "I didn’t mean to worry you."

Anne immediately gripped her hands, shaking her head. "No, don’t apologize. This is on me. I should have listened to you. I shouldn’t have fallen apart like that."

Margaret’s fingers tightened around hers. "Don’t carry that weight. Augustine will be fine. He’ll wake up—maybe even in a few hours. You can’t lose hope."

Anne let out a slow, heavy breath. Her mind drifted back to the time Paule had been in a coma.

Back then, the entire Clair family had started to give up—Patricia and Lorie had even talked about ending his treatment. But Anne had refused to surrender to despair, clinging to hope until the very end.

Now, it wasn’t just anyone—it was her husband lying unconscious. And if she hadn’t given up then, how could she possibly give up now?

Her gaze hardened with determination. "I won’t. I’ll never lose hope."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Word of Augustine’s coma swept through the city like a raging fire. Within hours, the stock value of his company plunged, sending shockwaves through the business world.

Panic spread to the overseas headquarters, where executives scrambled for answers, and whispers of replacing the president began circulating among board members.

Over at the Beaumont Group, however, the mood was different. Gabriel saw it as a golden chance to seize power. He summoned Denis to his office.

A short while later, Denis walked in, taking a seat across from his father. "You wanted to see me, Dad?"

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. "You’ve heard the news about Augustine," he said with a satisfied look on his face. "He is in a coma, and no one can say when he’ll wake up. This is our moment to take control of Starlite Corp, and while we are at it, secure the Sphere Group’s branch office as well."

A gleam of ambition lit his eyes. "Without him at the helm, Starlite is floundering. I want you to start moving on the takeover. As for the Sphere Group, they are still new here and just closed their biggest deal with us. Open negotiations. If they want to stay here, they’ll have to fulfil our demands."

Denis studied his father carefully, suspicion narrowing his gaze. "Tell me the truth... were you involved in this accident?"

Previously, his father had plotted to kill Augustine by tampering with the car’s brakes. But Augustine had been fortunate. He never got into that vehicle, choosing another one instead.

At that time, Gabriel had shared the plan with him, but this time, his father had remained silent. It stirred doubts in Denis’s mind.

Though he suspected him, he wasn’t certain. If his father truly had a hand in this accident, why keep it from him? Could it be that someone else was responsible—perhaps one of Augustine’s enemies?

The thought twisted his stomach because Anne had been involved this time. She could have died alongside Augustine. And that, more than anything, was unacceptable to him.

Across the desk, Gabriel’s expression shifted, but he did not explain. With the old secret hanging over him like a blade, he no longer trusted Denis completely.

Gabriel knew the day would come when Denis learned the truth that Augustine was his twin brother. He would discover that the man he had called father for so many years had killed his real parents. When that moment arrived, Denis would almost certainly turn against him, joining Augustine to seek revenge.

Until then, Gabriel intended to wring every ounce of use from him, secure his fortune, and cripple Augustine completely.

"What nonsense is this?" Gabriel snapped. "Why would I be behind it? Yes, I despise Augustine. Yes, I’ve gone after him before. But this?" His lip curled in disdain. "I didn’t plan it. I wouldn’t be foolish enough to provoke the old man by killing Augustine and his pregnant wife."

Denis wasn’t buying it. He knew how enraged his father had been after discovering that the old man had transferred his shares to Augustine’s unborn child. That alone could have been enough to push Gabriel into making such a ruthless move.

Yet the nagging question remained—if his father truly was behind it, why had he kept him in the dark?

Gabriel, unsettled by the sharp intensity in Denis’s gaze, turned his eyes away. The pressure of those unspoken accusations made his lies feel dangerously close to unraveling. Schooling his features into a cold, commanding mask, he spoke in a clipped tone.

"Just do what I told you. The timing is perfect for us. If we play it right, we can drag Augustine from his position and seize control of both companies. Once he is stripped of power, even if he comes out of that coma someday, he won’t be able to touch us."

A dark gleam flickered in his eyes as a sinister thought took hold. He already had a man planted inside the hospital, ready to act.

’I’ll make sure he never wakes up again,’ Gabriel vowed silently.