Chapter 342
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Chapter 342:
Twisted, smoking metal. The horrific screech of crushing steel. Through the shattered glass of a collapsed car, she saw Gaston — his white shirt soaked in dark, thick blood, his eyes losing focus. He reached a bloody hand out toward her.
Jocelyn tried to run to him, but her feet were sealed to the pavement.
“Gaston!” she screamed.
Her eyes snapped open.
J𝗼in 𝘵𝗁𝘦 𝖼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝘂ոі𝘁𝗒 а𝘵
She shot upright, gasping for air as though she had been drowning. Cold sweat ran down her spine. Her heart was hammering so violently it physically hurt her ribs. She frantically reached across the empty mattress beside her.
Cold. He wasn’t there.
The paralyzing terror of losing him swallowed her rational mind whole. She didn’t care about the time difference. She didn’t care about his business deals.
Jocelyn lunged for her phone on the floor. Her fingers were shaking so badly she dropped it twice before unlocking the screen. She hit his name.
The phone began to ring. Every second felt like an hour of physical torture.
It was 9:00 AM in Frankfurt, Germany.
Gaston sat at the head of a massive glass table in the Collins Group European headquarters. Fifteen senior executives and board members sat in absolute silence, subdued by the dark aura radiating from their boss. They were in the middle of finalizing a three-billion-euro acquisition.
A phone vibrated loudly against the glass table.
Gaston’s eyes dropped to the screen.
My Wife.
His entire demeanor shifted in a fraction of a second. The ruthless billionaire vanished. He knew Jocelyn. She was fiercely independent. She would never call him in the middle of the New York night unless something was seriously wrong.
Gaston raised one hand — a gesture that cut cleanly through the Vice President’s sentence. “Recess,” he said, his voice flat and absolute.
Without another word to the stunned executives in the room, he grabbed his phone, pushed back his chair, and strode rapidly out of the boardroom. He answered the call the moment he reached the quiet hallway.
“Jocelyn,” Gaston said, his voice tight with raw panic. “What is wrong? Are you hurt p>
A broken, agonizing sob came through the speaker.
“Gaston…” Jocelyn cried. She sounded so small, so completely shattered.
Gaston’s heart slammed against his ribs. His hand tightened around the phone until the casing creaked.
“I am here, darling,” Gaston said, his voice dropping to a desperate, soothing rumble. “Tell me who hurt you. I will kill them p>
“I had a nightmare,” Jocelyn choked out, struggling to breathe between sobs. “I saw the truck. I saw the blood p>
Gaston went perfectly still. The color drained from his face.
“I know, Gaston,” Jocelyn wept. “Grandma told me everything. The crash. The surgeries. Your leg p>
Gaston leaned heavily against the wall and closed his eyes. The ugly secret he had worked so hard to keep from her was out. He felt entirely exposed — as raw and broken as the man he had been in that ICU.
“I am sorry,” Gaston whispered, his voice thick with shame. “I didn’t want you to look at me and feel pity p>
“You are a complete idiot, Gaston Collins!” Jocelyn screamed through the phone.
The raw, fierce anger in her voice shocked him into silence.