Chapter 220

Chapter 220
SEAN

I witnessed the self-blame etched in Eve's eyes and her completely broken mental state.

"Eve," I said, kneeling before her chair. "You need to stop blaming yourself."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "How can I not? I brought Summer into our home. I trusted her with our children."

"Sean, you need to yell at me," she suddenly burst out, grabbing my hands. "Scream at me, blame me—anything! Maybe then I'll feel less guilty."

The raw pain in her voice broke something inside me. I pulled her into my arms, feeling her body shake with sobs.

"Listen to me," I whispered against her hair. "You've loved me steadfastly for nine years. You've given me two beautiful children. You've stood by me through everything. What right do I have to blame you for anything?"

Her fingers clutched my shirt. "If Noah doesn't make it—" her voice cracked. "I'll never forgive myself. Never."

I held her tighter, silently vowing to do whatever necessary to save our son.

"Get some rest," I murmured, easing her onto the small daybed we'd moved into the nursery. "Tomorrow, we're taking Noah to Dr. Cole's private clinic. I've arranged everything."

Her exhausted eyes finally closed. I covered her with a blanket, then returned to my vigil beside Noah's crib. My phone buzzed with another message from Matt about the company's financial crisis, but I ignored it. Nothing mattered except saving my son.

Morning came too quickly. Eve moved mechanically, helping me prepare Noah for the trip. The baby fussed weakly, his once robust cries now reduced to pitiful whimpers that tore at our hearts.

"Summer," I addressed our nanny as we prepared to leave. "We'll be gone most of the day. Keep things running here."

She nodded, concern evident. "Of course, Mr. Winters. Should I prepare anything special for when you return?"

"No need," I replied, helping Eve into her coat. "We'll probably eat at the clinic. The family needs time alone right now."

As we settled into the car, my phone rang. The hospital's number appeared on screen.

"Mr. Winters," the transplant coordinator said. "We have potentially good news. We've identified a suitable bone marrow donor for your son."

"Who? How soon can we proceed?" I demanded, gripping the phone.

"The donor has a surname James. According to our records, they were previously associated with your company, SkyEve Group."

My blood froze. James. There was only one James who had been a SkyEve shareholder.

"Are you talking about Lucas James?" I asked, and received an affirmative answer.

I thanked the coordinator and hung up, feeling Eve's questioning gaze.

"What was that about?" she asked, shifting Noah in her arms. "Did they mention Lucas? Is he caught up in this whole company mess?"

"No, The banking transfers went through this morning," I said, deliberately redirecting. "All the major banks have deposited the funds. The situation isn't as dire as it seemed."

Eve fell silent for a moment, then suggested, "My father could help. Stevens Group has enough resources to counter whatever Lucas is planning."

"Absolutely not," I cut her off. "The last thing we need is to jump from one trap into another."

Eve fell silent, staring out the window as we approached Dr. Cole's clinic.

As we walked down the corridor to his office, sounds from behind a closed door stopped us. Eve's eyes widened at the unmistakable intimate noises coming from inside.

Before we could retreat, the door opened and Ashley stepped out, hair slightly messy. She froze upon seeing us, her professional demeanor cracking.

"Mr. Winters, Mrs. Winters," she stammered, adjusting her blouse. "I... wasn't expecting you so early."

Cole appeared behind her, equally flustered but recovering quickly. "Ashley, don't forget your next appointment on Thursday."

Ashley nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact as she hurried past us.

"Come in," Dr. Cole gestured, awkwardness hanging in the air.

Once inside his office, Dr. Cole switched to professional mode. "Let's check out Noah, shall we?"

I placed the baby formula containers on his desk. "I need these analyzed first. Immediately."

Dr. Cole raised an eyebrow but nodded, calling his assistant to take the samples.

While Noah underwent tests, Dr. Cole reviewed his hospital records.

"The situation is serious," he confirmed, removing his glasses. "The leukemic cells have infiltrated his liver and spleen. There's also risk of hemorrhage."

Eve gripped my hand so hard her knuckles turned white.

"Our best option is an immediate bone marrow transplant," Dr. Cole continued. "I've found several potential donors, but none are ideal matches. White blood cell antigens only match about fifty percent, which increases rejection risks."

While Eve discussed details with Dr. Cole, I stepped outside to call the hospital privately.

"Is the bone marrow from Lucas James a complete match?" I asked bluntly.

"Yes, Mr. Winters," the doctor confirmed. "Full HLA compatibility. In fact, it's one of the closest matches I've seen outside of immediate family."

The implication hit me hard. I ended the call, leaning against the wall as possibilities I'd never considered forced their way into my mind.

Returning to Dr. Cole's office, I found his assistant presenting the formula analysis results.

"There are traces of benzene derivatives in the formula," he explained, pointing to the report. "This specific solvent can severely damage bone marrow function and often triggers acute leukemia."

Eve's face crumpled. "I brought that woman into our home," she whispered. "I let her poison our baby."

"We'll find suitable bone marrow," I promised, taking her hands. "Noah will recover and grow up healthy."

Eve's eyes hardened with determination. "And I'll make whoever's behind this pay. No matter what it takes."

EVE

"I'll handle Summer," I told Sean outside Dr. Cole's clinic. Noah would stay for initial treatment while we executed our plan. "You deal with the SkyEve crisis."

Sean cupped my face, his eyes intense. "Be careful. If Summer realizes we're onto her, she might warn whoever's behind this."

"I know what I'm doing," I assured him, kissing him quickly before getting into my car.

Driving back to Skyline, I rehearsed my act. I needed to seem exhausted but hopeful, suspicious of nothing. Noah's life depended on finding answers.

The penthouse felt eerily quiet when I entered. Summer appeared from the kitchen, her concerned expression now seeming completely fake.

"How's little Noah doing?" she asked, drying her hands.

I collapsed onto the couch, showing genuine fatigue. "My father insisted on taking him to Miami for treatment. His doctors there think they can help."

Summer's eyebrows rose slightly. "Miami? That's quite a trip for such a small baby."

"My father has connections to the best pediatric specialists," I lied, watching her reaction. "Noah will stay there until he's better."

Something flashed across Summer's face—relief? She quickly masked it with concern. "That must be hard for you, being away from him."

"It's what's best," I said, forcing a weak smile. "Noah has a much better chance there than here."

I stood, steadying myself. "Actually, Summer, we need to discuss your position."

Her expression turned wary. "Something wrong?"

"Since Noah won't be coming back to New York until he's recovered, which could take months, we won't need your services anymore."

The relief on her face was obvious, though she tried hiding it with a frown. "Oh, that's... unfortunate. I've grown attached to Noah."

Not attached enough to avoid poisoning him, I thought furiously while maintaining my act. "I understand. We'll pay you for the full month. You've been..." I swallowed hard, "...invaluable to us."

Summer nodded, already moving toward her room. "I'll pack my stuff right away."

Two hours later, I watched from behind the curtain as Summer got into an Uber with her suitcase. My heart pounded, rage and determination driving me. I memorized the license plate, then grabbed my keys and phone.