CHAPTER 186: HER PAIN...

More days had passed, and Zethan still hadn’t woken up. With each passing day, it was as if Lilia grew colder. No matter how often she asked Lena about his health, Lena’s answer was always the same:

"He’s doing pretty well. You don’t have to worry."

Yet the more Lilia heard those words, the more distant and hollow they began to feel. She had blinked away her thoughts countless times, struggling to accept what had happened.

Her hope was getting thinner as the days went by, while her fear grew thicker by the second.

"Mrs. Lilia," a voice said, snapping her out of her thoughts once more, "the stock value of the company has dropped by 50%. Partnering with us could help. We’re not just interested in profits; our collaboration could bring significant development to this country."

There was a moment of silence.

Lilia, her hair neatly packed up, wore a dark blue suit skirt and shirt with black heels. Sitting at the head of the meeting table among the CEOs, she finally spoke:

"You are dismissed."

Everyone’s eyes widened, stunned by her blunt dismissal of the CEO.

At the door stood Lucas, silently observing. Ever since Zethan had fallen into a coma, Lilia had stepped up to lead the company in her husband’s name. She was determined not to let anything fall apart.

To Lucas’s surprise, Lilia had learned incredibly fast. Mrs. Lilia, whom he had once underestimated, had proven to be remarkably sharp. She understood corporate politics better than anyone had expected.

The dismissed woman began to walk toward the door. That was it—Lilia had made her decision. And when Lilia said dismissed, she meant it. No matter who you were, once those words were spoken, you were out.

"Next," Lilia called again.

Another woman stood up and spoke softly. She looked young—possibly Lilia’s age. She seemed to be the only one close to Lilia in age among the room of executives.

"We’re not just here because of stock value. We’re here because your company holds the kind of data and innovation our country lacks. If we work together, this partnership could bridge our country and yours.

New ideas could bloom, and our people could benefit from what your company offers—not just yours, but ours too. A previous partnership with your company brought new inspiration to another country."

They weren’t just referring to financial losses—they meant employee data.

Recently, Zethan’s company had laid off many workers due to attitude and behavior issues. These decisions had been enforced by Lilia. The reduction in staff had caused instability—something the potential partners were clearly aware of.

The main reason many of the foreign workers—particularly the secretaries and receptionists—had been dismissed wasn’t due to personal bias. Their work ethic and attitudes had raised concerns, prompting necessary cuts.

The earlier conversation about "stock value" wasn’t just about money. It also symbolized societal growth—how children are expected to grow up with aspirations.

But in this country, it was found that many children lacked interest in pursuing careers like medicine, law, or other professions. Worse, roles like secretary or administrative professional were severely undervalued, with little to no aspiration among the youth to pursue them.

Additionally, many secretaries had been dismissed by Lilia herself. Their numbers had dropped drastically. The office now operated with only a few, undertrained staff members. It was becoming a concerning problem.

At that moment, Lilia finally raised her head, clearly intrigued by what the woman had been saying. Then, in a calm voice, she asked:

"So, tell me—why would you want our company to partner with yours?"

The woman responded confidently, "I don’t just want our companies to partner for mutual gain. We’ve studied your company closely and saw that many of your secretaries were dismissed due to failed attitude checks. In our proposal, we would implement a revised interview system—a specialized test—not only to evaluate skills, but to assess emotional intelligence and kindness.

Every candidate deserves the chance to be great. We have many interns training as secretaries, and the number is alarmingly high. If we work together, we could send some of our best here. We’d also like to share our test system as a tool to improve recruitment and reinforce strong moral and professional attitudes."

Finally, Lilia rose to her feet, speaking with quiet finality as she closed the meeting book.

"Meeting dismissed."

All eyes turned to her in surprise. One by one, the attendees stood and nodded respectfully before beginning to leave.

But just as they reached the doors, Lilia raised her hand and pointed at the last woman who had spoken.

"You... Please, stay behind," she said.

The others turned briefly to glance back, but said nothing as they exited. No one needed to say it—everyone understood. Lilia had made her choice.

Once the room was empty, Lilia walked toward the woman, extending her hand. The woman stepped forward and did the same. They shook hands firmly.

The woman’s hair was thick and silky black, tied neatly into a bun. She looked somewhat foreign, but it wasn’t her appearance that stood out—it was her words. While others had spoken only of profits and numbers, she had spoken of people. Her message touched something deep inside Lilia.

As the moment settled, Lilia spoke gently:

"You’ll return tomorrow so we can finalize the project and begin our partnership. Thank you once again."

The woman’s eyes lit up, and she bowed respectfully. To her surprise, Lilia did the same.

"We will not disappoint you, Mrs. Lilia. Thank you," she said.

Lilia smiled, a rare warmth in her tired eyes.

As they stepped into the hallway, Lucas was already waiting. He followed quietly behind and spoke in a low voice.

"Mrs. Lilia, there are no more meetings today. I would advise you to rest."

But Lilia shook her head.

"There are still documents I need to review and sign."

Lucas tried again, his tone more concerned.

"You don’t have to worry about those. They’re just a few—I can handle them."

"No problem," she replied softly.

Lucas sighed. He could see she was overworking herself again. What he didn’t fully understand was that she was using the workload to distract herself from the pain—the fear of Zethan not returning.

Then, Lilia paused mid-step.

"Lucas," she said, turning to him, "any update... about my husband’s recovery?"

Lucas gave a gentle nod.

"Yes, Mrs. Lilia. He’s improving. Slowly... but steadily. He’ll be back. You just need to be patient."

Lilia’s expression tightened. Her hand clenched slightly, but she nodded, took a deep breath, and continued walking as she stepped into the elevator.

There was silence. Then a soft ding as the elevator doors opened, and they both stepped out.

She got into the back seat of the car as Lucas settled in the front. The car began to move.

Inside, Lilia reached for the tablet resting beside her. She opened a puzzle game—not because she particularly enjoyed it, but because she needed something, anything, to keep her mind from spiraling. She stared at the screen, moving pieces into place, hoping to calm her thoughts.

No matter how many times she returned home, the only face that filled her mind was Zethan’s. The thought that he still lay unconscious in that bed made her chest ache with every breath.

Sometimes, she couldn’t sleep. On those nights, she would go to him—sit beside his bed, speak to him, cry softly, or just tell him about her day. At times, she’d even laugh through her tears, sharing stories about some annoying CEO she had dealt with, or how she admired Zethan for putting up with it all. She always made sure to kiss his forehead every night.

And yet... each visit hurt more than the last.

But she still went. Because even if it hurt, not seeing him at all would hurt even more.

After the long drive, Lilia pushed the tablet aside for reasons she couldn’t quite explain. Her mind was spinning. She needed to check on Zethan.

Was she impatient? Maybe. At this point, she couldn’t even think straight anymore.

The car finally stopped in front of the mansion. Without waiting, Lilia stepped out.

To Lucas’s surprise, she began walking quickly—almost too quickly—toward the entrance. He scratched the back of his head, watching her disappear inside.

"Ms. Lilia," Evie called softly as Lilia passed.

"I’ll take it later, Evie. Please just cover it—I’ll be back," she replied, barely stopping. Her voice was thin with exhaustion.

She was referring to the food.

Evie gave a small bow and watched as Lilia ascended the stairs, her steps quickening.

Lilia had no idea why she was in such a rush. She just... needed to see him.

As she reached the hallway, her pace slowed. Her legs began to tremble. Her heart pounded harder with every step toward the door.

She bit her bottom lip. Her eyes burned.

She didn’t know why... but she couldn’t bring herself to open the door.

Why... just why?

Just as she reached it, her hand hovered over the doorknob. Her forehead rested gently against the wood. Her fingers twitched, but still—she didn’t turn the knob.

And then... the tears began to fall. Unguarded, like a river breaking free from a gate.

As if time itself was collapsing.

She bent to the floor, sitting with her forehead still resting on the door, tears falling harder. Her breath trembled violently.

Her voice shook as she whispered,

"Oh Zethan... why?"

Her chest heaved.

"Why?" she repeated, voice cracking.

"Please... come back. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending to be strong..."

She sank further, arms hugging herself tightly.

"My husband... I miss you so much."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, her entire body shaking with every sob. She stayed like that for a while—lost in pain and memories.

Eventually, she stood.

She turned to leave—but paused.

At least he’s still here, she told herself.

As long as he’s breathing, it’s better than...

She bit her lip so hard it bled.

With trembling hands, she reached for the doorknob—and turned it.

The door creaked open.

She stepped inside... and froze.

The bed was empty.

Her eyes widened. Her breath caught.

Her heart stopped.

Before panic could even rise, she felt it—a warm arm gently wrapped around her waist from behind.

A deep, husky voice whispered into her ear:

"I am sorry for the pain I have caused you... My wife."