Chapter 110 #110
Chapter 110
~Shailyn's POV~
"I'll be back in a few hours. Cover up for me.” I told Hannah as the nurse wheeled me toward the hospital exit.
"Where are you going?"
"To see my mother."
"Shay, you just got cleared to leave. Maybe you should rest—"
"I need to see her. Please."
Hannah studied my face, then nodded. "Okay. But text me when you get there. And when you leave."
"I will."
The drive to the long-term care facility was quiet. The driver didn't ask questions. I was lucky enough that there was a driver stationed just to stay incase I needed to leave and no one was available to take me home. I was grateful.
My mother's room was on the third floor. Same as always. Same sterile smell. Same beeping monitors.
She was lying in bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in that slow, steady rhythm I'd memorized years ago.
"Hi, Mom," I said softly, pulling a chair close to her bedside.
She didn't respond.
I took her hand. It was warm. Small. Fragile.
"I read your letter," I whispered. "The one you wrote painfully."
The monitors beeped steadily.
"I know everything now. About Dad. About Tyler. About what they did to him. To us."
My throat tightened.
"I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm sorry I married into the family that destroyed ours."
Tears slipped down my cheeks.
"But I'm going to fix it. I'm going to make them pay for what they did. To Dad. To you. To me."
I squeezed her hand tighter.
"Tyler murdered him. And built an empire on Dad's work. On his genius."
The monitor beeped.
Beeped.
Then—
It spiked. Just for a second.
I looked up sharply.
My mother's eyelids fluttered.
"Mom?"
They opened. Just a crack. Her eyes, cloudy but aware, found mine.
"Mom. Can you hear me?"
She blinked. Once. Deliberately.
My heart stopped.
"You can hear me."
Another blink.
"Oh my God." I leaned closer. "I'm going to get justice for Dad. I promise. I'm going to destroy them all."
Her eyes held mine for a long moment.
Then they closed again.
The monitor returned to its steady rhythm.
I sat there, shaking, staring at her peaceful face.
She heard me.
She understood.
"I love you, Mom," I whispered. "I'll come back soon."
I kissed her forehead and stood, wiping my eyes.
When I stepped into the hallway, I nearly collided with someone.
"Shailyn!"
Aunt Patricia.
My blood turned to ice.
"Aunt Patricia. What are you doing here?"
"Visiting your mother. Same as you." Her eyes were sharp. Assessing. "How are you feeling? I heard about the hospital."
"I'm fine. Just exhausted. How did you hear?"
"That's what happens when you're pregnant and stressed." She tilted her head. "Were you just in with Celeste?"
"Yes. I wanted to see her."
"That's sweet." But her tone suggested she'd heard more than I wanted. "What were you talking about?"
My heart hammered. "Just telling her about the babies. How I'm doing."
"Nothing else?"
"Like what?"
She smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "I don't know. You seemed very emotional in there."
"Pregnancy hormones."
"Of course." She stepped closer. "Shailyn, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm family."
"I know."
"And if there's anything going on, anything you need help with, I’'m here."
I looked at her. Really looked at her.
She would do anything for money. I knew that. Had known it for years.
But right now, I was willing to take that risk.
"I appreciate that, Aunt Patricia. Really."
"Good. Because family takes care of family."
"How's Max?" I asked, changing the subject.
"He's good. Working construction. Making some money."
"That's great."
"Yeah. He asks about you sometimes."
"Tell him I said hi."
"I will." She paused. "You should get home. Rest. Take care of those babies."
"I will. Thank you."
I walked past her, feeling her eyes on my back the entire way.
\---
Dante was waiting at the hospital entrance when I arrived to be discharged.
"Baby!" He pulled me into a hug. "How are you feeling?"
"Better. Ready to go home."
"Good. I've been so worried."
"I know. Thank you for being here."
The drive home was filled with his chatter about work, about how much he missed me, about how scared he was when he got the call.
I smiled. Nodded. Said all the right things.
And felt absolutely nothing.
When we pulled up to the house, I looked at it with fresh eyes.
This place. This prison.
Built on my father's blood.
Furnished with my stolen work.
Populated by murderers and liars.
I hated it.
But I smiled anyway.
"It's good to be home," I said.
Dante kissed my temple. "I'm glad you're back."
Inside, everyone was waiting. Tyler. Cynthia. Monica. Even Gramps.
"Shailyn!" Monica rushed over. "You look so much better."
"Thank you."
"We were all so worried," Cynthia said, though her eyes said otherwise.
"I appreciate that."
Tyler hugged me. "You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart."
The word made my skin crawl.
"Sorry about that."
"Don't apologize. Just take care of yourself. And those babies."
"I will."
I excused myself to the bathroom and pulled out my phone.
Need micro cameras. Small ones. Can you get them?
Hannah's response was immediate: How many?
As many as possible. Start with the study, bedroom, living room.
On it. I'll have them by tomorrow.
Thank you.
Anything for you, babe. This is going to be fun.
I deleted the messages and flushed the toilet for effect.
When I came out, Dante was heading toward his study.
"I have some work to catch up on," he said. "Will you be okay?"
"Of course. I'm just going to rest."
"Good. I'll check on you later."
He disappeared into the study.
I watched the door close.
He'd been spending a lot of time in there lately. More than usual.
What was he hiding?
I went upstairs to our bedroom and lay down, staring at the ceiling.
A knock on the door.
"Come in."
Dwayne stepped inside, carrying a tray. "Thought you might be hungry."
"You made me food?"
"Soup. Nothing fancy. But it's warm."
He set the tray on the nightstand and pulled up a chair.
"Thank you," I said, sitting up. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to."
We sat in silence while I ate. The soup was good. Really good.
"This is delicious," I said.
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not. I just... I didn't know you could cook."
"There's a lot you don't know about me."
"Like what?"
He leaned back in the chair, studying me. "Like the fact that I think about you constantly. That I worry about you. That I—"
He stopped himself.
"That you what?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
"Dwayne—"
"How are you really feeling?"
I didn't press again. “Honestly? Overwhelmed."
"That's understandable. Do you want to remember?"
I looked at him. At the hope barely hidden in his eyes.
"I don't know. Maybe it's better this way. No memories. No pain."
"Or maybe the memories are worth the pain."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
We were close now. Too close.
I could see every detail of his face. The sharp line of his jaw. The intensity in his dark eyes. The way his lips were slightly parted.
I found myself staring at those lips.
Wondering what they would feel like against mine.
Wondering if he tasted the same as that night.
"Shailyn," he said softly.
"Yeah?"
"You're looking at me like—"
The door burst open.
We both jerked apart.
Dante stood in the doorway.
His eyes moved between us.
Cold. Calculating. Dangerous.
"What's going on here?”