Chapter 11
I spent a few months overseas for a business partnership and executive training program.
By the time I came back three months later, I was met with a headline I wasn’t prepared for:
#Xavier Ford critically injured in a car accident.
Both legs crushed.
Wheelchair–bound for life.
And the person behind the wheel?
Sophie Wells.
She was later convicted of aggravated assault causing permanent injury.
Sentenced: twenty–five years.
I couldn’t understand it.
Didn’t she love him? Was this how she showed it?
But then I got home–and noticed something missing from the garage.
My red Ferrari.
It was my favorite car. I kept it in perfect condition, with regular monthly maintenance.
I pressed my dad about it until he finally caved.
“It was Xavier,” he admitted. “He asked me not to tell you.
.
It turned out that while I was away, Xavier had personally taken the Ferrari in for every tune–up and service.
Sophie didn’t know I’d left the country,
So she waited in front of my house for nearly a month, hoping to see me.
One day, she finally spotted my Ferrari pulling out..
She rented a used car, slammed the accelerator and rammed straight into it
After the scandal with her cousin went public, Sophie was completely cut off.
Family, Friends. Colleagues. Everyone turned their backs on her.
She was mocked, blacklisted, abandoned.
And in her twisted mind, all of it?
Was my fault.
She never meant to hurt Xavier.
She was aiming for me.
The next day, I brought a flower basket to the hospital.
Xavier was in a private VIP suite. No visitors allowed except medical staff. Chapter 11
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I knocked gently.
His voice came through the door, calm but cold.
“Leave me alone.”
“Xavier,” I said. “It’s me.”
Silence
Then, finally, a nurse opened the door and handed me two documents.
One was the divorce agreement. Signed.
The other? A transfer of ownership contract..
He was offering me Ford International.
Later, I met with his legal rep. We finalized the divorce.
But I couldn’t bring myself to take the company.
My father said if I dared sign those papers, he’d break both my legs.
A year passed
And I saw Xavier again–walking, slowly, on prosthetics.
He was back in the corporate world.
And we?
We became the most familiar kind of strangers.
