Chapter 117
Blake
I stared at my reflection in the hospital bathroom mirror, assessing the damage. My right cheekbone sported an impressive purple bruise, while the area around my left eye had swollen to an angry red. My bottom lip was split and puffy, with dried blood crusted at the corner.
I carefully unbuttoned my shirt, wincing as a sharp pain shot through my ribs when I inhaled. Apparently, Alex 's punch packed more power than I'd anticipated.
"Fucking hell," I hissed, probing my ribs gently. Nothing broken, but damn near close.
I splashed cold water on my face, trying to clean off the worst of the blood, but my shirt still bore several dark crimson stains on the cuffs and front. There was no time to change, nor did I want to waste a second. My daughter was in intensive care, and here I was cataloging battle wounds like some schoolyard brawler. Ridiculous.
Stepping into the corridor of the VIP wing, I spotted my father James leaning against the wall, arms crossed, expression inscrutable. When our eyes met, he raised a single eyebrow. A familiar surge of irritation flooded through me – that goddamn eyebrow that always made me feel like I was sixteen again, disappointing him somehow.
"Do you have any evidence that Amanda is guilty and supports Sophia's claim that she was framed?" I asked directly, not in the mood for pleasantries. My head throbbed with each heartbeat, matching the pulsing rage I felt toward Amanda. If she'd lied to me, if she'd manipulated this whole situation...
"The park security has already handed over high-definition video and audio evidence," James replied, his voice carrying the precise tone he used during business negotiations. "Their system is significantly more advanced than standard park surveillance."
"I need those videos," I said, stepping closer, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I want to personally check who might have approached the scene. If Amanda truly staged this—" My fists clenched involuntarily, imagining her calculated deception, the way she'd played me for a fool while I was too blind to see it.
"I've already arranged for the complete materials to be given to your lawyer, Atticus Finch," James interrupted. "He'll handle this evidence within the legal framework. I suggest you avoid getting too personally involved, considering your current situation."
"My situation?" I repeated sarcastically. "You mean the fact that I just punched my daughter's legal father in the emergency room, or that I'm engaged to a woman who may have framed my ex-wife?" Christ, when did my life turn into such a goddamn soap opera?
James sighed, a flash of weariness crossing his eyes. "I mean you need to handle this calmly if you truly want to take responsibility for Lily and Sophia."
His words hit their mark. Something inside me crumbled slightly – the raw truth of what I stood to lose if I couldn't get my shit together. I nodded, temporarily suppressing my anger as I turned toward the nurses' station. A senior nurse was watching me sternly, clearly aware of the commotion in the ER.
"Mr. Sterling," her tone was professional but cold, "despite your status as a major donor to this hospital, we cannot allow you to cause any further disturbances. This is a hospital, not a boxing ring."
"I understand. I sincerely apologize," I forced myself to maintain a humble attitude, though internally I was seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to? But then again, she was right. I'd acted like a complete asshole. "How is my daughter?"
"She's in the pediatric intensive care unit, in stable condition. Dr. Robinson is monitoring her closely," the nurse's expression softened slightly. "Your daughter's legal father, Mr. Morgan, is waiting in the lounge outside."
The phrase "legal father" stabbed at my chest like a knife. A white-hot flash of possessive fury surged through me. MY daughter. MINE. Not his. Never his. I thanked her briefly and turned to head toward the waiting area when my phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Leon:
"There are urgent documents requiring your signature. Board can't wait any longer. Where are you?"
I quickly replied: "St. Mary's Hospital. Bring the documents. I'm in the pediatric ICU waiting room." Even now, the fucking business couldn't wait. But I needed the distraction – anything to keep my mind from spiraling into worst-case scenarios about Lily.
When I entered the waiting lounge, Alex was already seated there, sporting an obvious bruise around his right eye and a scrape at the corner of his mouth. When our eyes met, the air seemed to instantly solidify. I felt a perverse satisfaction seeing the damage I'd inflicted, followed immediately by shame. What kind of man was I becoming? James followed behind me, giving me a warning look before sitting down on the sofa opposite me.
I chose the seat farthest from Alex, and the three of us fell into a suffocating silence. James cleared his throat, his tone carrying rare humor: "As a fighter, you're an excellent financier, son."
I didn't respond, just stared at the abstract painting on the wall, feeling each second stretch like an hour. My mind raced with fragmented thoughts – Lily's pale face on the gurney, Sophia trapped in her apartment, Amanda's possible betrayal. The weight of it all pressed against my chest until I could barely breathe. The silence in the room was heavy as lead.
About twenty minutes later, Leon's voice broke the deadlock. He strode into the waiting room, his French accent particularly incongruous in this situation: "Oh, look at this sight! Manhattan's three most elite men looking like they just came from an underground fight club."
He dramatically surveyed the three of us, then pulled a stack of documents from his briefcase. "The market doesn't stop for your daughter's health crisis, my friend. These need your immediate signature."
I took the documents, quickly scanning the terms and signing in the designated places.
"By the way," Leon said after collecting the documents, "you owe me two hundred dollars."
I frowned. "What?"
"Our bet, remember? You never throw a second punch." Leon made an exaggerated boxing motion. "But today you clearly threw more than one."
James chuckled, and even Alex's lips curved slightly upward. Jesus Christ, was he seriously bringing this up now? But something about the absurdity of it, the normalcy in this insane situation, almost made me want to laugh too.
"Even billionaires should honor their bets, man," Leon extended his hand, palm open.
I shook my head and pulled two hundred-dollar bills from my wallet, placing it in his hand. "Asshole," I muttered, but there was no heat behind it. This absurd little episode somehow eased some of the tension in the room.
Leon looked around, then suggested: "After the doctor brings news, we should go for a drink at The Pinnacle. Everyone, including James and Alex."
I looked at him in surprise, but what shocked me more was that James and Alex both nodded in agreement. What the fuck was happening?
Alex turned to me, his voice calm but firm: "Whatever issues exist between us, Lily needs us to get along."
I hesitated, then finally nodded in agreement. Swallowing my pride felt like choking down broken glass, but I'd do it. For her. "We are the three main male figures in her life. Whatever problems exist between us, we can't mess things up for her."
This was the first time I'd acknowledged Alex's importance in Lily's life—a recognition both painful and necessary. It tasted bitter, like admitting defeat, but somewhere beneath the bitterness was something else – something almost like relief.
Just then, Dr. Robinson walked into the waiting room, and we all immediately stood up.
"She's awake," the doctor said simply, his face showing cautious optimism.
Alex and I simultaneously stepped forward, then locked eyes. My heart hammered against my ribs, emotions crashing through me like a tidal wave – relief, fear, hope, and a desperate, primal need to see my daughter.
In that moment, all hostility and competition seemed temporarily set aside. We both cared about only one thing: Lily was safe.