Chapter 20: Too Late, Too Proud, Too Loud

The scent of freshly made chilaquiles still lingered faintly in the air as I tied a simple ribbon around the food container and slipped it into the small lunch bag I always used for Dominic.

Inside: a high-protein meal, lemon-mint infused water, and a couple pieces of dark chocolate I knew he’d sneak behind the nurse’s back.

Reagan leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching me like I was out here saving the world.

“Feeding people is your weird little obsession, huh?” he murmured, grabbing his car keys from the table.

I shrugged without looking up. “Good food fixes a lot of things. Including Dominic’s charmingly terrible mood.”

A few minutes later, we left the house. Reagan’s car drove too smooth, too expensive, and way too quiet for two people with pasts as messy as ours. He didn’t say much during the ride. Just reached over once at a red light and lightly touched my wrist. The gesture was brief, but enough to send a shiver fluttering through my stomach.

The hospital wasn’t busy that morning. The hallways were still, occupied only by nurses with carts and that antiseptic scent that always felt too clean to be comforting. We took the elevator to the floor reserved for exclusive patients.

Everything looked too polished, too luxurious for someone who used to live in a dusty attic and refused every ounce of help from his own family.

Dominic was still asleep. His breathing was steady, and his face looked a little fresher than yesterday. I gently brushed the bangs from his forehead and placed the lunch bag on the small table by the bed.

“He sleeps like a baby,” I whispered.

“A baby with boss tendencies,” Reagan replied flatly.

I chuckled under my breath.

We hadn’t been there long when the door to the next room creaked open. Ruan stepped out in a black hoodie, hair a mess, face rumpled.

His eyes narrowed the moment he saw Reagan. “Well, look who it is. Husband for hire,” he muttered while stretching.

Reagan gave a tight smile and a short nod. “Good morning to you too, Ruan.”

I exhaled and stepped into the hallway. “Weren’t you supposed to be back in Medellín? I thought you were only in New York for two days.”

Ruan rolled his eyes. “Gretta, did you forget? I’m the heir to a Colombian business empire. I can’t just pack up and leave. Lots of affairs to handle. And lots of annoying people to keep an eye on.” He threw a sharp look at Reagan. “Like your ex husband.”

“Husband.” Reagan corrected.

Ruan narrowed his eyes.

I sighed and walked back into Dominic’s room, too tired to deal with my eldest brother’s ego, which was somehow larger than half of South America.

I pulled out my phone, adjusted the camera angle, and snapped a photo of Dominic from his most peaceful sleeping side. Bright filter.

Short caption: Still asleep. But getting better. ❤️

I sent it to the family group chat and locked my phone.

When I stepped out of the room again, I caught the sound of voices down the hallway. Ruan’s voice was low and impatient. Reagan’s was calm, but cold in a way that cut like steel.

“I can pay for everything. The hospital. The treatment. Private doctors. You don’t have to flash your power like this.”

“This isn’t about showing off,” Reagan answered. “It’s about making sure he gets the best.”

“He’s not your responsibility.”

“He’s my wife’s family.”

Silence.

I froze a few steps away from them, hidden behind a thin hospital curtain. My heartbeat was slow but heavy. I knew Reagan wasn’t saying this to sound noble. He didn’t care about praise. But his words still made my chest ache.

“The Domingo family was never short on money, Milano,” Ruan said again. “We can handle this.”

“I’m sure you can. But you’re a few years too late,” Reagan replied coldly. “So now, let me handle it.”

I held my breath, then quietly slipped back into Dominic’s room before they noticed I’d been listening.

A few minutes later, the door opened gently. Reagan came in first, followed by Ruan. Neither of them said a word.

Ruan dropped into the chair by the window, crossing his legs. “I’ll update Mamá later. Maybe after my nap. Or... next week.”

I raised a brow. “You know she’ll curse your entire bloodline if she finds out you’re in New York and didn’t say a word.”

“If that’s what it takes to get her to stop lecturing me, I’m all in.”

Reagan stepped up beside me and gently touched my shoulder. “Ready to go? I can drive you to the office.”

I nodded, casting one last glance at Dominic. His peaceful face, his body so much stronger than it was two weeks ago, and his lunch waiting patiently on the side table.

We left without saying much. But before I stepped out, I glanced over my shoulder at Ruan, sitting silently, staring out the window.