Chapter 100
David lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Cold disappointment washed over him like a wave, drowning him.
How much had he done for the Sharp family? How many bullets had he taken for Lucas? And now, injured because Lucas lost control, Lucas hadn't even stayed to explain. Hadn't even stuck around. Just... left?
For the first time, David felt his heart turn cold.
The door opened again.
Logan strolled in casually. Seeing the gauze on David's face, something amused flickered in his eyes.
"Well, well. David, what happened to you?" Logan approached the bed, his tone carrying zero concern and plenty of schadenfreude.
David ignored him.
"What, my brother do that?" Logan sat down uninvited, crossing his legs. "Told you. The guy doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself. You really thought he saw you as a brother?"
His voice dropped lower, turning insidious. "David, you've done so much for him. Look where it got you. He couldn't even be bothered to look at you. Haven't you ever wondered... who exactly have you been working for all these years?"
Logan's words tore open a wound in David's heart.
He'd always been easygoing, comfortable in Lucas's orbit, enjoying the perks of being the "godson" and the camaraderie of being "brothers." But now, everything felt shaky.
"Seven years. You know how much you've done for him? How much crap you've taken the fall for? And now? One little cut and he bolts. You really think he sees you as a brother?"
Brother. The word sounded almost laughable now.
All those dirty jobs he'd handled for Ashley, all the messes he'd cleaned up for Lucas, even the investigation into Juliana—he'd given it his all. He'd thought it was loyalty. Thought he was repaying the Sharp family for their kindness.
Kindness.
That word hit him like a thunderclap.
During these past few days of being "missing," he'd received evidence about his biological parents.
Ashley had always told him that on a snowy winter day, she'd taken pity on him and "picked him up" off the streets. But the truth? She'd already gone through a human trafficker, selected him specifically, paid money, and then brought him back to the Sharp family.
"Ashley has been so good to you, David." That line he'd heard his whole life now sounded absurd.
Kindness? More like a transaction. Everything he'd given had been paying back a "debt" that never really existed.
His eyes flew open, bloodshot.
"David, you look terrible." Logan's voice carried false concern as he leaned closer. "Remembering something unpleasant? If you ask me, nobody in the Sharp family actually cares about you. Except me, of course."
David didn't move, just kept staring at the ceiling, as if he could see through it to the Sharp family's lavish mansion, to Ashley's face—kind yet cruel.
He suddenly sat up, the movement so abrupt it pulled at the wound on his cheek. The sharp pain made him suck in a breath.
"Get out." David's voice was hoarse, holding back explosive fury.
Logan froze, the amusement on his face stalling. "David, who the hell do you think you're talking to?"
"I said get out!" David's hand shot up, pointing at the door.
Logan's smile disappeared completely. He'd never seen David like this. In his mind, David had always been that cynical but shrewd guy who knew how to play the game.
"What? My brother hurt you, so now you want to take it out on me?" Logan let out a cold laugh. "David, don't forget—that face of yours is courtesy of who, exactly? My brother—"
"Shut up!" David lunged forward, grabbed Logan by the collar, and threw him toward the door.
Caught off guard, Logan stumbled and slammed into the wall, clutching his bruised shoulder, staring at David in disbelief.
"Are you crazy?" Logan roared.
"I said get out."
Logan looked into David's nearly manic eyes and felt an actual chill run through him.
He rubbed his shoulder, his face showing reluctant resentment, then turned and stormed out.
David slowly unclenched his fists and collapsed back onto the bed.
The wound on his cheek burned like fire, but the pain in his chest was infinitely worse.
Lucas. Ashley.
The two people he'd trusted most had both betrayed him—one had hurt him, the other had lied to him for half his life.
David closed his eyes. Two silent tears slid down his face.
……
After the doctor wheeled David into the treatment room, Lucas pulled out his phone and dialed.
"Nick, I need you to contact the best plastic surgeon in the country right now. Top-tier, and fast." His voice was low and urgent, brooking no argument. "Yeah, a facial injury. It absolutely cannot scar."
It was the only thing he could do right now.
He strode quickly through the hospital, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. That's when a familiar figure caught his eye.
Juliana. She stood in the middle of the lobby, her face pale, her expression tight with anxiety.
"Juliana?" Lucas stopped.
Juliana saw him, surprise flashing in her eyes before deeper worry took over. "Lucas, you're back? Matty... he has a fever. A bad one."
Lucas's heart plummeted.
"Which room?" he asked.
Juliana grabbed his hand. "Upstairs. Pediatric ward."
They didn't waste a second, heading straight for the elevator. On the way up, Juliana quickly explained. After they'd gotten back from the clinic, Matty had seemed listless. She'd thought he was just tired, but by evening his temperature had started climbing. Now it was almost 103°F.
When they walked into the room, Matty opened his eyes groggily and whispered, "Mom."
Juliana leaned down and felt his forehead.
She held Matty's small hand, soothing him gently.
Lucas looked at his son lying there so weak and reached out, brushing back the hair plastered to Matty's forehead with sweat.
"What did the doctor say?" he asked the nurse.
The nurse answered, "Preliminary diagnosis is viral cold. We've given him fever reducers and we're monitoring him. Mr. Sharp, Dr. Wells, please don't worry. We'll keep a close watch."
Juliana looked at Matty's sleeping face, her anxiety easing slightly.
With doctors and nurses watching over him, and Lucas by her side, she felt a sense of security she hadn't felt in a long time.
That's when she remembered something else.