Chapter 112 112. It's My Fault
Lucien's POV
I paced the waiting room, hands shoved deep in my pockets because if I didn't anchor them somewhere, they'd shake.
My brother was back there, probably hooked up to machines. His body was failing him in ways I couldn't control or fix or throw money at.
The automatic doors hissed open. Camila ran in first, eyes wild and searching. When she spotted me, something in me cracked open.
I crossed the space between us and pulled her into my arms, burying my face in her hair. She smelled like flowers, and it calmed my heart only a little to breathe in something different from the smell of antiseptic and fear that had been in this hospital.
"Is he okay?" she whispered.
I couldn't answer yet, only held her tighter while Maya appeared behind her. She wrapped her arms around herself, chin high but eyes screaming everything she was trying to hide.
"They haven't told us anything," I managed finally, pulling back just enough to look at Camila. "He collapsed during a meeting. He just... he just went down. I pushed him too hard, baby."
Her hands came up to frame my face. "This isn't your fault."
"All these late nights, the evidence review, Hayes Corp falling drama. I kept piling more on his plate and I knew. I knew he was managing his condition and I didn't-"
"Lucien, stop." Her thumbs traced my cheekbones. "If this is anyone's fault, it's mine. He wouldn't even be involved if I hadn't stabbed Victor. If Ronan wasn't blackmailing me. Rafael's in there because of my mess."
"That's not-"
"It is." Her voice broke slightly. "The extra work is because of me."
"Can you both shut up??" Maya, who had been pacing near the window, had stopped and was turned toward us. "This isn't a competition for who gets to feel guiltiest. Rafael's sick. That's it. That's all there is..." Her voice cracked on the last word, and Camila reached for her. Maya shook her head, resuming her path back and forth.
Time stretched. Minutes felt like hours. Every time a door opened, we all tensed, waiting for news that might shatter us.
Finally, an older woman in a doctor's coat approached us. She has the kind of face that had delivered bad news before and learned how to soften it.
"He's stable," she said, and the breath I'd been holding escaped in a rush. "The flare-up was severe, but we've got it under control. He needs rest and monitoring, but he's going to be all right."
"Can we see him?" we three asked simultaneously.
"One at a time for now. Keep it brief."
I went first. Had to. I needed to see him breathing, to hear his voice and know he was still here.
The room and the lights were too white. Rafael lay pale against the sheets, an IV in his arm. His eyes were open, tracking me as I crossed to his side.
"You look terrible," his words scraped out rough.
"Shut up." I grabbed his hand, gripping harder than I probably should have. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Sorry." He tried for a smile, but it came out weak. "Didn't mean to be dramatic."
"I said shut up." My throat was tight. "You don't apologize for this. You focus on getting better. That's it. That's all you have to do."
"I can get discharged today. Don't we have an upcoming board meeting?"
"No." I leaned closer, making sure he heard every word. "You're going to rest and let them take care of you. Stop being a self-sacrificing idiot for five minutes and accept help."
His expression shifted. Always a workaholic, even in sickness, and I wasn't letting it this time.
"Okay," he answered with a frown.
"Good." We stayed there for a moment, neither of us letting go. Brothers didn't need more words than that.
When I stepped back into the waiting room, Camila stood immediately. "How is he?"
"Stubborn and alive." I ran a hand through my hair. "You can go in. Just don't let him talk himself into leaving early."
She squeezed my arm and disappeared through the door. Maya had stopped pacing, frozen away from the window, staring at nothing.
"He asked if you were here," I said.
Her head snapped toward me. "What?"
"Rafael. He wants to speak with you privately."
Color drained from her face. Then flooded back. Then drained again. "I don't-why would he-"
"Only one way to find out."
When Camila emerged, Maya slipped past her without a word. Through the window, I watched her approach Rafael's bed slowly, arms still wrapped around herself. He said something. She shook her head. He extended his hand, and after a long moment, she took it.
Whatever he said next made her shoulders curve inward, but she didn't pull away. She held his hand while everything she'd been holding back played across her face in waves.
"They care about each other," Camila murmured beside me.
"I think they do."
"Then why did he push her away?"
I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against my side.
"Because Rafael's father died a slow and painful death. Rafael must be convinced he's going to do the same thing to anyone who gets close to him-make them watch him die slowly and painfully."
"When are you going to tell Mama and Javier?"
My gut twisted. "That's Rafael's choice."
"I know his case is not so deadly, but they should know."
"Papa Cortez died from illness." The words came out harder than I intended. "Mama watched the man she loved waste away. If we tell her Rafael's in the hospital, she'll panic. Her heart might not survive it."
Camila went quiet. Then nodded slowly. "You're right. But I'm still worried."
"Me too. But we are by his side."
Rafael would be in the hospital for at least a week which meant the evidence review fell to us alone.
Time was precious. Rafael's collapse had reminded me of that in ways I couldn't ignore. We needed to finish this. Needed to hand everything over to the FBI before Ronan found another angle to attack from, and most importantly, for we all to live peaceful and happy lives with worrying about threats.
The board meeting was a disaster.
I sat at the head of the conference table, listening to grown men panic about a merger leak that could cost us millions. Internal documents had gone public.
"We need to identify the source," Marcus-I guess-insisted, leaning forward. "Someone on the inside sold us out!"
"Or someone got sloppy with their security," I countered. "Let's not jump to corporate espionage before we've ruled out human error."
But they weren't listening. All they did was shout over each other, pointing fingers, demanding investigations and heads on spikes. It was total chaos in the room for hours.
The meeting was heading nowhere and my patience had worn to nothing.
Then Estella burst through the conference room door with tablet in her hand.
She was my new assistant, mid-thirties, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, professional to her bones.
If she was interrupting a board meeting, something was very wrong.
"Mr. Hayes, we have a situation."
Every head turned toward her. I stood, straightening my suit. "What kind of situation?"
"It involves your ex-girlfriend, Camila Sterling."
Ice flooded my veins. Ronan. Had he done something? No way.
He has no evidence with him.
"A video went viral yesterday." She handed me her tablet. "You need to see this now."
To my surprise, it was a newly posted video from Natasha's social media page.