"Hospitalized?!" Alia echoed, jolting up. Imdiately, she regretted her decision, wincing in pain as every inch of her body yelled out in protest.
Matteo got out of the hospital bed as quickly as he had slipped in, frowning in Aiden’s direction.
"What happened?" he demanded.
Aiden rolled his eyes. "Daddy dearest called. Said that he had a heart attack. He wants us to fly back to Solara now. You, especially, since you’re the future son-in-law of the Hawthornes."
"Absolutely not," Matteo imdiately refuted. "Alia just woke up. She is in no position to travel."
"We have to, Matteo," Alia spluttered. She hissed in pain but slowly got up anyway, careful not to overexert herself now that she had been burned once before. "If my grandfather is unwell, I ought to be there for him."
Besides, Horace Hawthorne was quite possibly the only one in the Hawthorne family who cared for Alia. Even before he found out that she was his granddaughter, he had been exceedingly kind to her. She couldn’t just sit here halfway across the world while his health was in crisis.
Matteo pursed his lips, but he was silent as he pondered over what Alia said. In the end, he nodded slowly.
"Let check with the doctor," he said, relenting. "If he deems you alright to fly, we will get on the next flight."
"Mom sent the plane," Aiden said. "It will be here in about eight hours after it has been cleared in Sol City. You should pack up as soon as possible."
Then, not wanting to stay there for a minute longer, Aiden turned and left the room.
***
The doctor cleared Alia and declared her well enough for discharge. Of course, Matteo was handed an extensive list of care instructions for both himself and Alia’s condition, and the duo — along with Aiden — scurried for the airport a few hours later.
In less than a day, they returned to Sol City.
"We can head ho first," Matteo suggested after they parted ways with Aiden at the airport. The chauffeur had arrived to fetch them separately, and now in the car, Matteo uncapped a bottle of water before passing it to Alia to drink. "Horace is out of danger. It was a small attack and the doctors are currently monitoring his condition to make sure it doesn’t worsen."
"I want to see him," Alia insisted. "I have to be there."
Despite how long she had been unconscious, her body had healed up pretty quickly. Sure she was filled with aches and bruises, but those were from falling down― everything was superficial and skin-deep.
Besides, this wasn’t just about Horace’s health. If Alia didn’t show up, she could already foresee the things Annalise and her daughter would say behind her back― that Alia was an unfilial granddaughter who had no care for her sickly grandfather. Having been out of the dia’s eye as the main star of a scandal, Alia would rather not return to the headlines of Lady Vanity with such an untrue label.
Matteo nodded. "Very well." He cared for Alia’s well-being, but if she was sure, he was in no place to say no.
They arrived at the hospital directly after and headed for the ward after checking with the front desk.
Horace Hawthorne had been assigned a private room in the elite section of the hospital, and as soon as they arrived outside, Alia could spot Annalise pacing back and forth with her finger in her mouth. She chewed on her nail, and when she caught the footsteps of people approaching, she looked up.
The sight of Alia and Matteo quickly brought a scowl to her face.
"About ti you showed up!" she imdiately barked. "Your grandfather is hospitalized and you still have the mood to enjoy your vacation in Lesterat?"
"Pardon for not recovering from possible death sooner," Alia retorted, her voice sickly sweet — a great imitation of Emline — but filled with brazen sarcasm. Even the nurses who walked by turned their heads slightly at her response. "I was a little busy nearly dying after the coach that your daughter hired left stranded in the mountains."
Hell, she didn’t care if those people listening in reported it to the tabloids. In fact, Alia wouldn’t mind watching the world burn after everything that had happened.
Without saying anything else, she walked to the door and raised her hand, about to knock when it suddenly burst open. Emline stood on the other side, and at first, when their eyes t, both won had equal looks of shock plastered on their faces.
Alia was the first to recover.
"Please excuse ," she said before pushing past Emline to head into the room, causing Emline to scoff in disbelief.
Her lips twisted into a snarl but before she could say anything, Annalise cleared her throat.
"Darling," Annalise said, calling out to her daughter. "Alia and Matteo are here to visit." She made sure to stress Matteo’s na, and instantly, Emline snapped straight.
Her gaze landed on Matteo, who stood there cooly, and when he made his way forward so as to follow Alia into Horace’s ward, Emline burst into tears. She stepped forward and allowed the door to shut behind her, using her body to block Matteo’s path. Then, she all but threw herself into his arms and bawled.
"Matteo!" Emline cried out, her voice loud enough for the nurses and doctors down the corridor to listen in. "I was so scared! I thought my grandfather... he..."
She wept, her tears quickly drenching Matteo’s shirt as his face shriveled into one of disgust. Then, without hesitation, he stepped back, causing Emline to stumble forward. She was so surprised that she imdiately stopped crying, her arms flailing around as she tried to balance herself.
"Please have so decorum, Miss Hawthorne," Matteo coldly said.
He made sure that the volu of his voice matched Emline’s. Those nosy hospital staff who had heard her cries had better be able to hear his words as well.
"I don’t believe you and I are acquainted enough for you to be sobbing in my arms like that, especially when my fiancée is right behind this door that you’re blocking in front of."
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