Chapter 3: He Won't Be Smiling for Much Longer

A cherry-red Porsche Cayenne screeched to a stop outside the hospital entrance.

The tires screamed against the asphalt.

Before the vehicle had fully settled, the driver's door flew open.

Vera Vance sprinted around the hood.

The moment she saw June standing alone on the curb, swaying like a ghost in the cold morning wind, her heart nearly stopped.

June's face was completely drained of color.

A fresh patch of blood was slowly spreading through the front of her coat.

"Oh my God, June!" Vera cried.

She caught June just as her knees gave out.

"What happened? Where the hell is Cole?"

June rested her head weakly against Vera's shoulder.

A bitter smile tugged at her lips.

"Even hell is better than being in there," she whispered.

Vera's eyes widened.

"You're bleeding through your coat!"

Ignoring June's attempt to stand on her own, Vera wrapped an arm around her waist and practically carried her to the passenger seat.

The Porsche roared back to life.

Vera didn't drive toward the Compton estate.

She didn't drive to her apartment either.

Instead, she headed straight for Mount Sinai Private Medical Center, a facility where she had powerful connections.

Inside the car, the heater blasted warm air.

Vera gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Tears of rage burned in her eyes.

"I'm going to kill him," Vera muttered through clenched teeth.

She swerved through Manhattan traffic with reckless determination.

"I swear to God, June, I'm going to rip his heart out with my bare hands."

June leaned her head against the cool leather seat.

Her vision drifted in and out of focus.

Another sharp wave of pain rolled through her abdomen.

Her thoughts slipped backward.

"I thought he was my savior," she murmured.

"I was wrong."

"I was in love with a ghost."

Vera glanced at her briefly.

Confusion flashed across her face.

But she was too focused on getting June help to ask questions.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at the private hospital.

Vera's influence eliminated all delays.

June was immediately transferred into a luxury VIP suite.

Within minutes, an attending physician was examining the damage.

His face darkened with anger.

"This is severe secondary trauma," he said sharply.

"Who did this to her?"

"This absolutely requires a police report."

Vera stood by the window with her arms crossed.

Her nails dug into her skin.

"I'll handle the police," she replied coldly.

"You focus on saving her."

The medical team moved quickly.

A fresh blood transfusion was started.

The torn surgical wound was carefully repaired.

Pain medication flowed through June's IV.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When June finally woke up, the room was quiet.

Soft afternoon sunlight filtered through the large windows.

Vera sat beside the bed.

Her eyes were swollen and red from crying.

The moment she noticed June was awake, she stood up and poured a glass of warm water.

"Easy," Vera said gently.

She helped June take a few careful sips.

Then she asked the question that had clearly been haunting her.

"Did you sign the divorce papers?"

June swallowed and nodded.

"I signed them."

"I'm leaving with nothing."

Vera nearly dropped the glass.

"Nothing?"

"June, are you out of your mind?"

"That's Compton money!"

"You gave that man four years of your life!"

"You should take every cent you can get."

June looked at her best friend.

Her eyes were calm.

Too calm.

The panic was gone.

The desperation was gone.

The woman who had spent years begging for love no longer existed.

"I don't need his money, Vera," June said quietly.

"I only want his name erased from my life."

Vera stared at her.

For a moment, she remembered the woman June used to be.

Not the obedient housewife.

Not the silent wife everyone underestimated.

But the brilliant young genius she had met in college.

The woman who could outthink entire research teams before breakfast.

The woman who had hidden herself for far too long.

June reached out and grabbed Vera's wrist.

"I need a favor."

"Anything."

"Go to my old storage unit."

"Bring me my old laptop."

"The black one."

Vera frowned.

"Your college laptop?"

"Why?"

"Just trust me."

Two hours later, Vera returned carrying a heavy black laptop.

It looked old and outdated.

Almost worthless.

June placed it carefully on her lap.

Then she pressed the power button.

The screen flickered to life.

Immediately, her fingers began moving across the keyboard.

Lines of code appeared faster than Vera could follow.

One command.

Then another.

Then another.

A highly encrypted login screen appeared.

Vera leaned forward.

She didn't understand a single thing on the display.

But the speed and confidence with which June worked sent a chill down her spine.

"What exactly is on that laptop?"

June didn't answer.

Her attention remained fixed on the screen.

At that exact moment, the television mounted on the wall switched to the evening news.

A reporter appeared on screen, microphone in hand.

Standing in front of a corporate office building.

And directly beside her stood Cole Compton.

"Mr. Compton," the reporter asked, "your wife was noticeably absent from the charity gala last night. Is everything alright with your marriage?"

On the screen, Cole adjusted his suit jacket.

His expression transformed into one of perfect concern.

"My wife is feeling slightly under the weather," he said smoothly.

"She's resting comfortably at home."

"Thank you for your concern."

Vera exploded.

"Liar!"

She grabbed the television remote and hurled it across the room.

The plastic shattered against the screen.

A spiderweb crack spread directly across Cole's smiling face.

"Hypocritical bastard!"

Vera shouted.

"He left you bleeding to death!"

"And now he's playing the caring husband on television?"

June remained perfectly still.

She looked at the cracked image on the screen.

Then down at the laptop resting in her lap.

Her fingers hovered over the Enter key.

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

Cold.

Controlled.

Dangerous.

"Let him smile," June said softly.

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

But somehow it felt more terrifying than a scream.

"He won't be smiling for much longer."

Then she pressed Enter.

And somewhere deep within a network of dormant accounts, hidden systems began waking up.