Chapter 11: You Will Show Her The Greatest Respect

The words had barely left her lips when Leah saw Kayden grab her foot. Before she could react, there was a sickening *crack* as he twisted it a full 360 degrees in his hands. Her already battered ankle, too swollen to walk on, was now contorted so violently that tears sprang to her eyes, and her scream pierced the room.

"Kayden!" Georgia yelled, rushing to the sofa with her face twisted in panic. She shoved him aside and cradled Leah’s foot, her voice sharp with fury. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kayden straightened, his face calm yet unsettlingly resolute. "She can walk now. The swelling will be gone by tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, he added, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, "Dinner’s ready. Help yourselves." And with that, he strode out the door, his footsteps heavy but deliberate, not sparing them a backward glance.

Leah, still reeling from the pain, propped herself up against the sofa and stared at the door, eyes wide in disbelief. "Georgia…what just happened? Is he out of his mind? Did he fall and hit his head or something?"

She caught herself, realizing her blunder. Kayden had always been a little slow, so she quickly amended, "I mean, did he fall and, like, *unhit* his head? Maybe he got his memory back?"

Georgia, still flustered, nodded slightly. "Ever since we got back from the hospital, he’s...different."

Then her expression softened as she glanced at Leah’s foot. "How’s it feeling now? Still hurting?"

Leah froze for a moment, her mind racing. If Kayden really had regained his memory, would he remember all the ways she’d exploited him? The thought made her stomach tighten. What if he used it against her? What if he blackmailed her? She’d have to corner him soon—figure out what he knew.

But for now, she focused on the immediate problem: her foot. Cautiously, she swung it off the sofa and pressed it to the ground. To her astonishment, the pain was…gone. Well, almost. The swelling was still there, and her foot tingled slightly, but the sharp ache that had made every step unbearable was completely gone.

"No way…" Leah muttered, taking a few tentative steps. Her voice rose with excitement. "Georgia, it doesn’t hurt! It actually doesn’t hurt! That idiot is...he’s incredible!"

Georgia crossed her arms and gave Leah a pointed look. "How many times do I have to remind you? He’s your brother-in-law. You can call him dumb all you want, but he’s family. You can’t change that."

Leah stuck out her tongue, unbothered. "Family, schmamily. I don’t care if he’s my brother-in-law or not. But you, Georgia, you’re always so nice to him. Why?"

Georgia didn’t answer, instead ushering Leah to the dining table. It was already set with several dishes—simple, homey meals, nothing fancy. Leah took one bite and froze, her eyes widening.

"Whoa! This is amazing! Georgia, where did you order this from?"

Georgia took a bite herself and blinked in surprise. The food was as good as the macaroni Kayden had made that morning. It was the kind of meal that made you want seconds, then thirds, and maybe fourths if no one was watching. She knew instantly who had made it.

"Kayden cooked this," she said, almost to herself.

Leah nearly choked on her bite. "Kayden? No way. He probably bought it from some fancy restaurant and brought it home. That’s gotta be it."

Georgia didn’t bother arguing. Instead, she quietly kept eating, her mind racing. Who was Kayden now?

---

Meanwhile, at the Atkinson Group.

Fletcher sat behind his massive desk, a stack of contracts in front of him, his brow furrowed as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. Across from him, Beckett, head of the Hiphia branch, stood with his hands clasped nervously in front of him. Despite his position, Beckett looked small—almost insignificant—in Fletcher’s presence.

"Mr. Atkinson," Beckett began cautiously, "I’ve carried out all your instructions. What would you like me to do next?"

Fletcher leaned back in his chair, the tension in his face easing slightly. "You’ve done well," he said after a moment.

Beckett let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He smiled hesitantly. "It’s my duty, sir. But…if I may ask, there’s something I don’t quite understand."

Fletcher gestured for him to continue.

Beckett hesitated, then said, "Why the Adams family? They’re barely second-tier—no wealth, no influence. With so many powerful families to choose from, why focus on them? It doesn’t add up."

Fletcher’s expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a quiet yet commanding tone. "I don’t care what the Adams family is like. My only concern is that this contract gets to Georgia Adams. No one else is to sign it."

The finality in his voice made Beckett shrink back slightly. Fletcher’s word was law, both in business and beyond. Questioning him was unthinkable.

"Yes, sir," Beckett said quickly, bowing his head.

"One more thing," Fletcher added as Beckett turned to leave. The man froze mid-step, waiting.

"When you ever have Ms. Adams here again, you will show her the greatest respect. She is the wife of the person I respect most in this world. If I hear of any disrespect—like what happened at the company entrance—there will be consequences."

Beckett’s face paled. "Understood, sir. It won’t happen again."

As Beckett left, he muttered under his breath, "The wife of the person Mr. Atkinson respects most…"

The thought sent a chill down his spine. Whoever this person was, they were powerful enough to command Fletcher’s reverence. Beckett shook his head in disbelief. For someone to hold that kind of sway over the most influential man in the Southwest? It was almost unfathomable...