CHAPTER 068

CHAPTER 068
«Jarvis Point Of View»

From the corner of the room, I stole a glance at Sean. He looked calm, too calm. It was like the ordeal with Mr. Dan two hours ago had never even happened, like none of those threats or accusations had shaken him in the slightest.

But something about him had changed. He appeared colder now, his eyes fixed blankly on Tristan’s pale face, his expression carved from stone. The silence around him felt heavy, almost intimidating, making him look completely unapproachable.

Which was exactly why I hadn’t started blurting out questions yet. Still… my mind wouldn’t stop racing.

He had a daughter?

The thought circled in my head again and again, refusing to settle. I shifted slightly in my seat, stealing another glance at him, trying to imagine Sean as someone’s father. It didn’t fit the image in my head at all.

Was he still part of the Mafia? I thought he left that life behind. The thought made my stomach twist. Sean never struck me as someone still living in that world… but then again, what did I really know about him?

He knew how Tristan’s mother died? My brows slowly knitted together. How could someone know something like that and keep it hidden all this time?

He had a disgusting past with Tristan’s dad? I blinked, my brain trying to process the pieces that refused to fit together. Nothing about that situation made sense.

Who was Mr. Dan really? Was he even half of what he claimed to be? And if Tristan was truly his son… why didn’t he want him to be happy? The questions kept piling up in my head until I suddenly cringed when the image of Sean and Mr. Dan together forced its way into my thoughts.

Ugh. No. That was repulsive. I shook my head slightly as if I could physically throw the thought away.

And just when I thought I would die from this awkward, suffocating atmosphere, the door opened, and a cheery Mrs. Benita walked in carrying two lunch boxes. Relief washed over me instantly as I happily jumped up and rushed over to her, immediately taking them from her hands while she chuckled softly at my eagerness.

I didn’t know why Tristan didn’t like this woman. She seemed to be the kindest person on earth…or maybe I could be wrong. After all, they said, looks can be deceiving. 

“You might be older, but you remind me of Dean whenever he sees food.” She chuckled again and gently patted my head before walking over to Sean. I smiled sadly at the food.

“Sean?” she called softly.

Sean slowly turned his head toward her, his expression still unreadable. She smiled widely and extended the lunch box to him. He accepted it without hesitation.

“Thank you,” he said with a small nod.

I watched as her gaze drifted toward Tristan, and the brightness in her eyes dimmed almost instantly.

“How is he? I’m sorry you had to stay here. I’ve been so caught up with Dean’s death…” she said, frustratedly rubbing her forehead. I noticed the veins on her hands and neck, the tired redness around her eyes, and the heavy bags beneath them made it obvious she hadn’t slept much either. She looks exhausted.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault that you can’t look after him. I’ll do the job,” Sean replied calmly, and her smile broadened again at his words, and her brown eyes sparkled with what looked like gratitude… or maybe relief.

“Sean, can I speak with you outside?” she requested softly.

Sean nodded without questioning her. He carefully put his lunch aside before standing and following her out of the room, and the door shut behind them.

I poked my inner cheek to keep sitting and mind my business, but my curiosity wouldn’t let me sit still. Before I could stop myself, I quietly crept toward the door and peeked through the small gap. God help me, but I listened.

Mrs. Benita cleared her throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. “It seems like Tristan is not improving, and I want him to attend his graduation. So I spoke with Dan, and we’ve decided to move him to another hospital… a much better one.” She paused like she had more to say, but was trying to gather the courage.

Sean’s voice came calmly. “And…?”

“I think it’s better if you leave,” she finally said.

I nearly facepalmed right there in the hallway. What is wrong with these people? Why did everyone want Sean gone from Tristan’s life?

“Don’t get me wrong, Sean. Both of you look good together, but Tristan is still young. He hasn’t even started half of his life yet. He still has a long way to go, but because of you…he might not want to.” Her voice softened slightly. “I know Tristan. I raised him myself, and when he makes a decision, he stands by it.”

That… actually made sense.

She swallowed before continuing. “And Tristan is going to live with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. That condition won’t allow him to have a stable relationship with you. I spoke with the doctor. He said Tristan might suffer in a relationship. You’re a doctor too, you understand the risks better than any of us do.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Love might kill him, and we don’t want that.”

For a moment, everything stays still.

Then she inhaled deeply before continuing. “Dan has been creating scenes again. You know how he gets when he’s angry… and his obsession with you is getting in the way of Tristan’s happiness. That’s another reason you should leave.”

I frowned slightly. Obsession? Okay, this was one messed-up family.

“This family is broken right now,” she said tiredly. “I’m trying to put the pieces back together, even with Dean gone… but I can’t do that with you here. Tristan will choose you, and you know it.” She stepped a little closer to him. “I know Dan still has your daughter; that’s why you’ve stayed this long, and I know she’s the reason you haven’t killed him yet. Annette is the only thing Dan has over you.”

My eyes widened.

Annette…? That was his daughter. How old was she?

“But if I help set Annette free without Dan knowing, you can leave. You can take your daughter and disappear. Live happily… and forget Tristan ever existed.” She finalized and stepped back, giving him a warm, almost sympathetic smile.

From where I stood behind the door, my heart was pounding. Forget Tristan ever existed? What about Tristan? Have they thought of how he would suffer from all of this? Everything about this felt so fucking wrong.

“It’s up to you now. Your daughter or your lover. Your choice. Let me know when you have decided.” She gently patted his shoulder before turning and walking away.

Immediately, I rushed back to my seat like a guilty child caught snooping; my heart was still pounding loudly in my chest.

Seconds later, the door opened, and Sean walked in. He didn’t say a word. He simply returned to his seat beside Tristan’s bed like nothing had happened; his posture was calm, almost indifferent, but I couldn’t stop staring at his back, practically boring holes into it with my gaze.

What is he thinking right now? Had he already made a decision? If Mr. Dan truly had his daughter… then it would make sense for Sean to choose her.

Anyone would choose their child.

“How old is your daughter?” I suddenly asked before I could stop myself. I blinked in surprise at myself. Was I being too nosy?

Sean didn’t turn around as his reply came. “Six,”  

“She’s so young,” I gulped, another question quickly taking over my head. “Did you use Tristan for your daughter?” I stared at him expectantly.

“No, I didn’t. He had her taken a few months ago.”

I sighed in relief, my shoulders loosening a little. Thank God… at least Tristan wasn’t just a pawn in all of this. “What are you going to do?” I asked quietly, watching him carefully.

“Take my daughter or leave, Tristan; both are weighty,” he sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“What relationship do you have with Mr. Dan and Tristan’s mother?” I kept asking.

“Angelina was my childhood friend before she met Dan,” he began slowly. “We were all part of the Mafia. She knew Dan had an obsessive love disorder with me, but thought she might have a chance with him and got pregnant with Tristan."

I blinked, trying to process the twisted mess of that story. So Tristan’s entire life was born out of obsession.

“He murdered her a week after Tristan’s birth,” Sean continued coldly. “She kept chasing after things that didn’t want her, but her death gave Dan an advantage to rule a powerful Mafia here in Canada.”

“You didn’t report to the police?” I asked.

Sean scoffed, like the very idea of police was some kind of bad joke. It only made me realize the world Sean came from probably didn’t work the way normal people’s did.

“I’m also a criminal; going to the police is a big no, even though my case was closed years ago.”

“Because you’re still part of the Mafia?” I asked cautiously.

“I can’t leave.”