Chapter 74 A Debt of Silence.
Theon's expression didn’t change, but something dark flickered in his eyes, before a slow smile spread across his face.
You're smart." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "And right. I don't just do favors."
Lena watched his fingers tap. Tap. Tap.
For a moment, she considered leaving. Going back to Rhys. Asking him for help instead. But Rhys had already done so much. And Theon—Theon would be the one performing the transplant. She couldn't afford to lose this chance.
She straightened her shoulders. Making up her mind.
"What is it?”
Theon's smile widened slightly. "You know what we discussed earlier." His gaze narrowed on her. "I just spent my time performing surgery on your father. I'm only asking for two things in return."
Lena's fingers clenched on her thighs.
"One." He held up a finger. "You never speak of Evelyn's miscarriage to her. No matter what.”
Lena stiffened.
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“It is,” he said calmly. “Because I’m the one managing her medical file.”
Silence.
"Two." He paused, letting the word hang. His chair swiveled slightly as he studied her, thinking.
Lena's stomach knotted.
After a long moment, he continued. "Go home. Sleep." Another pause. "When we meet again and you can think clearly, we'll discuss your other debt."
Lena sat there, her gaze lowered. Lie to Evelyn. And an unknown second debt. The weight pressed down on her chest.
But what choice did she have?
"Are you planning to stay here all night?" Theon asked, a teasing edge to his voice. "I wouldn't want that so-called husband of yours to get the wrong idea.”
Lena rose slowly, her legs still unsteady. "Fine. I accept your offer."
He didn't look at her. His attention had shifted to his phone. "Good. Find your way out.”
She didn’t move.
“And Lena,” he added without looking up, “remember—you tell no one about our agreement. Not about Evelyn, not about this conversation. If you go back on your word, I won't hesitate. Not even because you're Evelyn's friend.”
Her eyes flashed.
A frustrated laugh escaped her. "Why do you pretend you care so much about Evelyn? This is ridiculous.”
"Wrong." His gaze lifted, meeting hers. "Roman and I are close friends. Like you and Evelyn. So by extension, Evelyn is my person. And I won't have her mentally or emotionally destroyed by a miscarriage she didn't even know she had."
Lena scoffed. "And you think I want that? What happens when she eventually finds out? Do you think she won’t feel betrayed?”
“Who,” he said calmly, “is going to tell her?”
Theon's eyes narrowed mockingly. "I run this hospital.”
Lena clenched her teeth. Something hot and angry twisted in her chest. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug grin off his face.
Theon shifted slightly under her glare. He broke eye contact first.
"Go," he said. "Before I change my mind."
Lena made a sound of pure frustration and marched toward the door, her trembling legs somehow carrying her. Her hand was on the handle when his voice stopped her.
"Lena."
She looked back.
He had turned slightly in his chair. The overhead light sharpened the lines of his profile.
"Remember," he said quietly. "You owe me a favor.”
Lena's throat tightened.
She didn't trust him. Didn't understand him. Didn't like his arrogant, infuriating self one bit.
She yanked the door open and slammed it behind her with a satisfying thud.
—
Theon sat in the sudden silence.
The echo of the door hung in the air. He stared at the closed door for a long moment, his expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, a smile curved his lips.
"Lena," he murmured.
The name tasted different on his tongue than he'd expected.
He turned back to his phone, but his mind wasn't on the screen.
It was on her. The fire in her eyes.
“Interesting.”
—-
When Evelyn finally woke, it was morning.
Soft golden light filtered through the curtains.
For a moment, she didn’t move.
Her body felt… wrong. Heavy, and sore.
There was a deep, dull ache low in her abdomen. Not sharp enough to make her cry out, but persistent. Exhausting. Her limbs felt weak, like she had run for miles. Her throat was dry. Her head throbbed faintly.
And she was so, so tired.
She tried to shift. A quiet groan slipped from her lips.
The movement pulled at muscles she didn’t know could hurt.
She slowly pushed herself upright, propping against the pillows with effort.
The room spun for a second.
The door opened just then.
Roman walked in. He froze when he saw her sitting up.
She looked up at him, and for a moment, she forgot the pain.
He looked terrible. Not in an obvious way—he was showered, dressed, put together. But his eyes were red-rimmed, shadowed with exhaustion, holding something raw that he quickly masked as he strode towards her.
“Careful,” he murmured, sliding an arm behind her back to steady her.
His touch was warm, firm, and protective.
“Darling,” he said softly, his heated gaze scanning her face. “How are you feeling?”
Evelyn frowned faintly.
“Like I’ve been run over,” she muttered.
Her voice was hoarse.
She shifted again and winced. A cramp tightened low in her stomach, making her hiss quietly.
Roman’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder.
“Easy.”
She blinked, looking around.
The room was spacious. Tastefully decorated. Warm lighting. Plush seating. Fresh flowers. Floor-to-ceiling windows.
She noticed the IV line attached to her hand.
Her brows drew together. “Where are we?”
Roman didn’t hesitate.
“We’re at the hospital.”
She let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “This doesn’t look like a hospital.”
“You’re in a VVIP ward.”
Her mouth formed a small “oh.”
She looked around again. “Still doesn’t feel like one,” she muttered weakly.
Her hand lifted to her head. “I don’t remember much,” she said slowly. “I remember feeling dizzy… I was with Lena, and then I remember seeing you…”
Her brows knitted.
“Wait— how’s Father? And uncle Wiliam—Lena’s father. He was admitted—”
“They’re all fine,” he said, gently adjusted her pillows, and helping her settle back properly.
“You don’t need to worry about them.”
Relief flooded through her, loosening some of the tension in her chest. "And Lena? Is she—"
"She's fine. She was here all night. I made her go home a few hours ago to rest.”
She exhald slowly, hearing that.
“I hope she's okay…” She muttered under her breath
Evelyn shifted again, and flinched faintly.
Her hand moved instinctively to her lower abdomen.
“But what happened to me?" Evelyn asked quietly. “…Why does my stomach hurt?”
Her hand moved instinctively to her lower abdomen.
Roman stilled. His eyes followed the movement. Pain flashed through his eyes. He quickly masked it.
“You fainted,” he said carefully. “Your body was under a lot of stress.”
She swallowed.
“I don't know, I feel so… empty.” The word came out unconsciously.
Roman’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“You lost a lot of energy,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Your body is recovering.”
She nodded slowly. “I feel cold.”
He immediately pulled the blanket higher around her.
“You need rest,” he said quietly. “No more thinking. And worrying.”
She let out a small sigh. “Did I scare you?” she asked faintly, looking at him.
Roman smiled softly. “You always do.”
She managed a weak smile in return.
Then her eyes drifted down again. Her hand lingered over her stomach.
A strange unease flickered through her.
“I had the strangest dream,” she murmured. “There was blood.”
Roman’s hand froze against the blanket.
“It was just a dream,” he said smoothly.
She looked at him. “…Was it?”
His gaze held hers steadily.
“Yes.”
A long pause.
Then she leaned back into the pillows, exhaustion pulling her under again.
“I’m so tired…”
“Sleep,” he whispered.
Her fingers curled loosely around his sleeve as if anchoring herself.
Within minutes, her breathing evened out.
Roman remained seated beside her. Watching her.
Just when he thought she had fallen asleep, her lips parted.
"You still haven't told me who Victoria is," she murmured, voice thick with drowsiness. "Or was to you.”