Chapter 24 BENEATH HIS CONTROL.

Chapter 24 BENEATH HIS CONTROL.
LUCIAN'S POV:

Cole’s face morphed almost instantly, confusion giving way to sharp recognition. His brows shot up, mouth parting in disbelief before twisting into something that looked a lot like accusation.

“Lucian Vale?” he said, voice rising, fingers pointed towards me. “It has to be you. The same guy Mrs. Clayborne accused Andrew of—am I right?”

The room froze.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

The doctor’s expression was unreadable—eyes darting between us, lips pressed into a thin line. Mira stood a few steps behind Cole, her posture stiff, eyes flicking from him to me.

When she realized, I wasn’t going to answer, she sighed quietly and looked away, tension clouding her face.

I didn’t bother reacting. I just stood there—arms crossed, gaze steady, face blank. The silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on.

Cole’s jaw clenched. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” he snapped, voice echoing through the ward.

The doctor straightened immediately, her professional calmness snapping back in place. “Mr. Cole,” she said sharply, “Lower your voice. This is a hospital ward, not a movie theatre.”

He turned to her, frustration written all over his face, ready to argue—

But before he could get a word out, I spoke.

“Why not listen to the doctor,” I drawled, voice low and slow, “And keep your mouth shut for once.”

Cole’s head whipped back toward me, eyes blazing. “Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?” he barked, taking a step forward.

I didn’t answer. I just rolled my eyes, slow and deliberate, and walked right past him toward the doctor. My boots echoed softly against the tiles.

I could feel his anger burning behind me before I even heard his footsteps.

Then—

A hand clamped around my wrist.

I turned fast. And twisted his arm up and around, forcing his balance off. The next second, he was flat against the cold floor, my knee pressing lightly into his back as his breath hissed out between his teeth.

“Lucian!” Mira’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and startled. She gasped, hand flying to her mouth.

“Gentlemen, stop this immediately!” the doctor barked, stepping forward. “This is a hospital, not a battlefield!”

But I didn’t move just yet. I leaned closer to Cole, my voice a low growl beside his ear.

“Next time you grab me like that,” I said, tone calm but deadly, “You better be ready to lose that hand. Because I don’t do well with people trying to control me.”

And you—” my grip tightened briefly, just enough for him to feel the warning— “You don’t know half the things you’re playing with.”

Cole stiffened beneath me, his jaw locked tight. I could feel the pulse hammering in his wrist—fast, uneven—but he still tried to push back, too stubborn to admit defeat.

“Lucian Vale!” the doctor snapped again, louder this time.

I exhaled through my nose, straightening up. My hand released him, the movement sharp, final. Cole shoved himself off the floor, glaring daggers at me, his face flushed with equal parts anger and humiliation.

The doctor adjusted her glasses, still looking slightly shaken from the scuffle, but she straightened when I stepped closer.

“Now,” I said, my tone calm but commanding, “Tell me—what’s the situation with the patient?”

The doctor blinked at me, clearly unsettled by my tone. “Before I answer that, Mr. Vale,” she said cautiously, “ I need to know—who exactly are you to the patient?”

Her question shouldn’t have mattered, but something in the way she asked it—like she was measuring my right to be here—made my jaw tighten.

I held her gaze. “Someone who doesn’t take kindly to seeing her like this,” I said evenly, my voice low, threaded with something I didn’t bother hiding. “That’s all you need to know.”

Something in my tone must have struck her, because she paused—eyes flicking between me and the file in her hand before she nodded slowly, like she’d just decided not to press further.

“Very well,” she murmured, shifting her weight as she looked down at her chart again.

Her lips parted, a deep sigh escaping as her shoulders slumped. “She’s… stable, for now,” the doctor said carefully.

“But it was a close call. When she was brought in, her heart rate was erratic. Severe sleep deprivation, high stress levels—classic signs of insomnia worsened by paranoia. She hasn’t had a full night’s rest in days, maybe weeks.”

My brow furrowed. “Paranoia?”

The doctor nodded, her voice steadying as she spoke. “Yes. She’s been unusually alert. We tried mild sedatives, but her system’s been resisting them—she’s been running on adrenaline for too long.”

“We finally managed to stabilize her condition a few hours ago.”

I listened silently, jaw tightening as each word settled in.

Insomnia. Paranoia. Stress.

What could have driven her to this point?

As much as I knew the distance between us had affected her, this… this was beyond that. Something else had gotten to her—something deeper, something that stripped away the walls she always kept up.

But what?

The doctor’s voice broke through my thoughts. “She’s sedated now,” she said quietly. “Her vitals are still fragile, so she won’t be awake for a while.”

I exhaled slowly. “Can I see her?”

The doctor shook her head almost immediately. “Not now, Mr. Vale. She’s in a delicate phase. Any emotional disturbance might trigger her anxiety again.”

“She needs rest—quiet, uninterrupted rest. Once we’re sure her condition has stabilized, I’ll inform you.”

I held her gaze for a moment before nodding once. “Understood.”

She gave a small nod in return and turned slightly, clearly eager to step out of the tension still lingering in the room.

But just as she was about to leave, I spoke again—voice low, cutting through the silence.

“One more thing, Doctor.”

She stopped mid-step, looking back at me.

I took a slow stride forward until the distance between us was almost gone. “Everything that happened here today,” I said quietly.

“Stays behind closed doors. Every word, every face, every name. This infirmary is labeled external for a reason. And you wouldn’t want to know what I’d do if even a whim of this reached another ear—especially regarding the patient in your care.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face. “Mr. Vale… are you threatening me?” she managed, her voice trembling but still trying to sound composed.

I didn’t answer at first. I just watched her—unblinking, studying the flicker of fear in her pupils. Then, finally, I tilted my head slightly and said, “Try and see.”

Her breath hitched. She held my gaze for a few seconds—long enough to realize I wasn’t bluffing. Whatever she wanted to know, whatever she wanted to ask, she buried it beneath her forced composure.

She swallowed hard and nodded slowly.  “Understood,” she whispered.

“Good.”

The doctor turned away quickly, gathering her files and walking briskly toward the door. Her shoes clicked sharply against the tiles, the sound echoing long after she’d left.

Now it was just the three of us.

Cole was standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, eyes still burning with anger. He kept adjusting his sleeve, like he was trying to pull himself together after the humiliation.

Mira stood quietly beside the window, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her coat. Her face was pale, thoughtful—she hadn’t said a word since she called my name earlier.

Silence hung thick between us, the kind that pressed down heavy on the chest.

And beneath it all, one thought pulsed quietly in the back of my mind—

What the hell happened to you, Storm?