Ewan’s jaw was tight enough to ache as he held the phone to his ear.
His teeth ground together audibly, every muscle in his face rigid while Sandro’s voice trickled through the line.
"We found so gang mbers loitering around the company... it was good we had heightened security, or else it would have been a different story. And not just that, also around the Thorne’s mansion... pretending to be tourists or sothing... we had to send in more security... they were in strategic locations, reason you hadn’t pointed them out at first glance..."
A pause. "I’m at the company, but you should hurry to the hospital. I heard Florence’s situation is serious... A new variant of the virus. Kael really went far. Luckily, Athena has made a headway with the cure."
Another pause. "So, what did the old boss say?"
Ewan’s response was a harsh grunt.
"That’s not an answer, Ewan."
"You should’ve told ," Ewan bit out, his voice low but laced with fire. "About everything. You let walk into the city, into the house ignorant. Do you know I had been waylaid at the airport? Information from you would have helped to take so precautions... And about the loitering...Do you know how that makes look? I should have spoken with Old Mr. Thorne before now!"
There was a pause. Then Sandro’s sigh.
"Athena said you shouldn’t be told," he replied, voice tired. "She knew you already had your hands full visiting the old boss. She didn’t want to burden you with more..."
"Burden ?" Ewan snapped, pacing across the Thorne living room, his shoes scuffing against the polished floor.
Connor watched him quietly from one of the couches, eyes narrowing as the storm rolled off his friend.
"You know damn well I hate ignorance more than I hate bad news. You robbed of choice, Sandro. Both of you did. Don’t you ever think for ."
"I’m sorry," Sandro murmured again. "Everything has just been so busy."
Then, with a hard edge, he cut in, "But enough whining. Stop spitting fire at over the phone and get to the hospital. That’s where you’re needed."
Before Ewan could explode, the call clicked dead. His hand clenched around the phone until his knuckles whitened. He stared at the screen for a beat, Sandro’s dismissal which was ant to be sarcastic, only feeding his frustration.
Connor tilted his head, voice even. "What happened?"
Ewan blew out a rough breath. "Family is in the hospital. They also caught so gang mbers around the house, and the company..." He shoved the phone into his pocket. "And apparently, I wasn’t supposed to know."
Connor shrugged. "They just thought the old boss wouldn’t be welcoming, which I quite understand..."
True, but it didn’t weaken Ewan’s annoyance. His children had been put in danger too. His family.
John really shouldn’t expect much from him, with the way his son was throwing bombs here and there.
He tapped a quick ssage to his private security detail. He wasn’t going to risk rushing to the hospital without protection.
Kael’s gang might decide to unleash chaos, and he wasn’t about to be a sitting target. Nor would his family or patients.
Still, waiting sat like poison in his veins. He couldn’t stay still. His pacing grew sharper, steps longer, breath shallow with impatience.
Finally, he muttered, "I’ll check on Spider. Stay here."
Connor lifted a brow but nodded, returning to his calm slouch on the couch.
Ewan slipped into Spider’s room, the heavy door closing with a muted thud.
Relief pushed back the annoyance when he saw that Spider’s face, though pale, was no longer corpse-like. A faint blush had returned to his cheeks. His chest rose and fell steadily. He wasn’t gone. Not yet.
Ewan stood there longer than he intended, staring at the fragile thread of life stretched across his comrade. Only the vibration in his pocket pulled him back. Another ssage.
He glanced down, his stomach tightening when he saw Kael’s na flashing across the screen.
Oh Ewan, you lucky brat. Connor eh? Where is my father then? Give his location or pay the consequences. By the way, have you seen the first gift? How do you like it? The second cos tomorrow.
A second gift? Again?
Ewan’s lips curled in disgust. He didn’t bother replying. He was tired of the gas, frustrated more that he could not do much about them.
He needed to separate himself and think. Wasn’t tomorrow Atheba’s private engagent party?
Wheew!
His thumb hovered only long enough to delete the ssage entirely before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Turning on his heel, he left Spider’s room, jaw clenched tight once again.
Ewan paused outside the next door, curious. He opened it gently after a while.
Inside, Lucas was propped up on pillows, the morning light pouring through the open window behind him. His profile was half-shadowed, eyes distant as he stared outward. On the cabinet sat a doll with tangled hair—his daughter’s. She must have visited recently.
Lucas’s eyes shifted, catching Ewan in the doorway. The faintest smile tugged at his lips. "You."
"How’re you holding up?" Ewan asked, stepping inside.
"Better," Lucas rasped, though his voice still carried the rawness of illness. "Thanks to you. You saved my life. And hers. My daughter."
Ewan shrugged off the gratitude, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Anyone would have."
"No," Lucas countered, his gaze steady. "Not anyone."
Ewan cleared his throat, a tad bit uncomfortable under the weight of the man’s sincerity. Afterall they weren’t friends.
Why was he even here?
Albeit, he nodded once, curtly. "Rest. Get stronger. That’s what matters now." He turned, ready to leave.
"Wait."
Ewan paused, glancing back.
Lucas’s eyes softened, "Athena. How is she?"
The question burned like a spark in Ewan’s chest, jealousy flaring before he crushed it down.
They were just friends, even then.
So, his voice was steady when he answered. "She’s at the hospital. With Florence."
Lucas nodded, relief flickering across his face. "Good. That’s good." Then his gaze drifted back toward the window, the conversation closed.
Ewan slipped out silently, pulling the door shut behind him.
Downstairs, Connor was lounging with a plate, fork scraping up the last bite of cake. "Kitchen was open," he said with a smirk, not the least ashad.
Ewan wasn’t in the mood to be amused. His eyes flicked past Connor, scanning for his n. A buzz on his phone confird it—We’re close.
Minutes later, black SUVs rolled up to the mansion. The team moved with practiced efficiency, spreading out, securing the periter. Connor tossed his plate aside, licking sugar from his fingers as he fell in step with Ewan.
—
In the hospital, monts later, Ewan strode to the reception desk. The woman behind it looked up, recognition flickering in her eyes. She didn’t ask for details, didn’t waste ti. She simply pointed him down the hall.
And then he saw them.
"Daddy!!" Kathleen shouted, running to him, followed closely by a Nathaniel who looked much relieved.
They must have seen the convoy from the windows. He thought, crouching down, opening his arms wide, accepting their joyful collision with his body.
"Hey..."
For a mont—just a fleeting, fragile mont—everything felt right again in his world.
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