Chapter 258: Clara’s Hospitalization

“Amelia, Clara’s in the hospital,” Aidan said. “She’s being treated, but it’s bad. Marionne kidnapped her, and things went to hell.”

Millie’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Oh my God, is she okay?”

“She’s alive,” Aidan said, his tone grim. “But she needs time. Can you come?”

Millie nodded, though Aidan couldn’t see, and handed the phone back to Evan, her voice shaking. “Evan, Clara’s in the hospital. Marionne took her.”

Evan’s jaw tightened, and he took the phone. “Aidan, what happened?”

“Marionne lost it,” Aidan said, exhaustion clear in his words. “She kidnapped Clara and tried to force some insane plan. It ended with her dead and Clara hurt. She’s at a private hospital now, getting treatment.”

“Alright,” Evan said, his mind already shifting gears. “We’re coming.”

He ended the call, and Millie was already moving, pulling a bag from the closet, her hands quick as she packed clothes and essentials. They left the room and headed for the airstrip, where Evan’s private plane waited. After a few minutes, the jet’s engines roared to life as they boarded, Millie’s face set with worry, Evan’s hand brushing hers briefly before they settled in, the plane lifting off.

After two hours, Evan and Millie stepped out of the elevator, the private hospital’s sterile hallway smelling of disinfectant as they followed a nurse to Clara’s room. Evan’s face was set, his jaw tight, his heart still heavy with the choice he had offered Millie—and the fear of losing her.

Millie walked beside him, her hands twisting together, her worry for Clara etched into her expression.

Inside the room, Clara lay in a hospital bed, an IV dripping into her arm, bandages covering cuts on her face and arms. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady but weak. Aidan stood by the window, his shoulders slumped, his face haggard from the ordeal. When he saw Millie, his eyes lit up, and he crossed the room in quick strides, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Millie,” he murmured, relief in his voice, and before she could react, he kissed her briefly but fervently on the lips.

Evan’s gaze dropped to the floor, his chest tightening. He turned his head slightly, staring at the wall, his hands clenching in his pockets to hide the tremor. He loved her—had for longer than he had admitted, even to himself—but he had meant what he said about her freedom. Still, seeing Aidan’s arms around her and his lips on hers, felt like a blade twisting in his gut. He forced his face to stay neutral, his breathing controlled, masking the ache.

Millie pulled back from Aidan, her cheeks flushing, her eyes darting to Evan with a flicker of guilt. She stepped away. “Aidan, what happened to Clara?”

Aidan’s expression darkened, his hand running through his hair. “Marionne kidnapped her,” he said. “She forced a priest to marry us. It turned into a fight. Then a blast—Marionne threw a grenade. Clara was caught in it. Her vision’s blurred, but the doctors are working on her.”

Millie’s hand flew to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Oh, Clara,” she whispered, rushing to the bedside, her hand gently taking Clara’s, her shoulders shaking as she cried quietly.

Evan stayed back, his eyes on Millie, the sight of her pain stirring his own. He wanted to comfort her, to pull her close, but Aidan’s presence loomed, a reminder of the choice he had given her. He glanced at Aidan, who nodded toward the hallway, a silent request to talk. Evan followed.

Aidan leaned against the wall. “I killed Tony,” he said, his eyes meeting Evan’s, steady but haunted. “I was afraid he’d come after me—after us—once he knew she was dead.”

Evan’s brow furrowed, his mind shifting to strategy, pushing down his emotions. “Did anyone see you? Did you take out anyone else there?”

Aidan shook his head. “Caught him leaving his house, ambushed him. No cars around, no witnesses. Just him.”

Evan nodded, though his heart still ached. “I’ll check for surveillance and make sure it’s clean. I’ll have someone check.”

Aidan exhaled, relief flickering, but Evan was already moving, turning toward the exit, his face a mask of resolve. Aidan called after him, “Where are you going?”

“Back,” Evan said, his steps not slowing.

“And Amelia?” Aidan asked.

Evan paused, his back to Aidan. “I don’t own her,” he said, the words clipped, heavy with everything he wasn’t saying.

He turned, just enough to meet Aidan’s eyes. “You don’t deserve her, you know.”

Aidan’s jaw tightened. “And you think you do?”

Evan’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t. That’s why I’m setting her free.”

He walked out, the hospital doors sliding shut behind him, leaving Millie with Aidan and Clara, his heart a tangle of love and sacrifice. The weight of his choice followed him, heavier than any fight he had faced, as he headed back to the plane, alone.