Chapter 22

Eliora's POV

The hospital waiting room was the perfect kind of sterile torture. The walls were painted a nauseating pale green, and the fluorescent lights hummed with a headache-inducing intensity. Everything felt too bright, too cold, a direct contrast to the frantic, bloody chaos I had just experienced in Kian’s office.

I sat between Julian and Drew, my body rigid. Kian had been whisked away to surgery almost immediately. The nurse, who had regarded me with weary suspicion, had confirmed that while the wound was not immediately life-threatening, whatever the culprit used cut a little too deep.

The silence was punctuated only by the distant beep-beep-beep of monitors and the soft scraping of Drew’s shoes on the linoleum floor. Drew, Kian’s step-brother, looked utterly devastated. He was slumped forward, running his hands repeatedly through his thick hair. His glossy eyes, which seemed permanently on the verge of tears, were fixed on the double doors of the Intensive Care Unit (ICU).

I kept my hand pressed firmly over the inner pocket of my coat, where the damning photographs and the anonymous note lay hidden. Every time a new person, a doctor, a nurse, a security guard came near, I stiffened, terrified the evidence would suddenly spill out and confirm the stalker's threat.

The tension was suffocating. I needed Zoey.

Then, the elevator doors slid open, and Zoey rushed out, her eyes immediately finding me. She slowed down, her face pale. She seemed to be doing her best to avoid Drew's intense stare, perhaps because she knew she would betray my secrets if she looked at him too long. She reached me and immediately wrapped me in a fierce, protective hug.

"Eli," she murmured against my hair. "What happened? I came as soon as you called."

I pulled back, grateful for her warmth. Zoey’s presence felt like a small, stable ship in a terrifying storm. Drew lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over Zoey and settling briefly on me before dropping back to the floor.

Zoey quickly assessed the scene, Julian, Drew, the sterile environment, and her voice dropped. "You need to leave. Julian and Drew are here now. It's not good for you to be here, Eli. It looks suspicious."

I felt a wave of resistance. Leaving felt like abandoning Kian in the exact moment he was most vulnerable, a parallel to the original abandonment two years ago.

"I can't just leave," I whispered, the words heavy with guilt.

Julian, who had been watching the exchange, finally spoke up, his voice low and practical. "Zoey is right, Eliora. You need to go. I am here to look after Kian, and Drew is too. We can handle the police and the company inquiries." He paused, his expression hardening slightly. "It is not good for your public image to be photographed at the hospital. It might create suspicion.”

He didn't need to elaborate. Suspicion meant questions. Questions meant interrogation was exposed. The interrogation meant the press would try investigating, and the anonymity protecting Ezra would vanish.

I reluctantly agreed. I rose to my feet, gathering my coat and preparing to escape the oppressive silence.

But as I was about to turn toward the elevator, a furious voice shattered the quiet.

"I knew it! You cursed woman!"

The sound of expensive heels clicking rapidly on the linoleum floor announced Tonia's dramatic entrance. Kian’s mother barreled toward me, her face contorted with shock and cold fury. Before I could even raise my hands, she straight up landed a slap on my face.

The force of the impact stunned me. My cheek burned instantly.

Tonia started yelling, her voice echoing off the walls. "I knew it! I told Kian to stay away from you! Every single time you are involved, Kian always gets in trouble! You are a plague on his life!"

Julian immediately moved to intervene. "Tonia, stop! The police are—"

She shut him up with a scathing look. "You! You were senseless, Julian! All of you! Letting her this close to Kian after the chaos she caused two years ago! Don't you see she's only here to make sure he's finished?" She threw a disgusted glance at Drew, making it clear that she hated him, too.

Tonia always had hated Drew because of his mother. Kian's father wasn't exactly the "faithful" husband, and Drew's mother had been the reason for the messy divorce. Tonia’s hatred was a bitter legacy.

Tonia turned back to me, her voice dripping with poison. "Stay away from my son! I know what girls like you are after—money, attention, and fame. And you, Eliora, you are just like your mother! A pitiful slut!"

The comparison to my mother was the breaking point. All the pain, the guilt, the shame I felt about my mother's life—it ignited into a blinding, searing rage.

Zoey moved, ready to speak up, but I moved faster. I controlled my trembling hand and landed a slap across Tonia's face.

The sound was sharp, immediate, and shocking. Tonia stumbled back, her eyes wide in shock, not only her but everyone, Julian, Drew, and two nearby nurses were frozen in stunned silence.

I stepped forward, my eyes locked on Tonia, my voice low and dangerous, commanding the space despite the throbbing pain in my own cheek. “First, don't you ever dare lay your hand on me again. Second, tell your son to stay away from me. You should even be grateful I was present at the moment to help rush your son to the hospital.” I paused, letting my words sink, letting the weight of the moment settle on her. “And third, don't you ever compare me with my mother.”

I turned to Zoey, whose eyes and mouth were wide open, still reeling from shock. “Come on, Zoey, let's go.”

“What?” Zoey stammered.

“Yeah, let's go.” With that I left with Zoey, not sparing a single backward glance at a shocked Tonia or the frozen men behind me.

….

We didn't speak again until we were outside the hospital entrance, moving quickly to the parking lot. Zoey erupted.

“Go bestie! I didn't know you had it in you!” Zoey almost stumbled over from laughing, clutching her side.

I laughed too, a raw, shaky sound that released some of the unbearable tension. “I couldn't help it. She's so annoying.” I frowned, the temporary adrenaline fading as I remembered Tonia's corrosive hatred.

“Annoying? Bad energy, she's the queen.” Zoey rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

We stopped at the vending machine inside the lobby. I picked a Cheetos, the bright orange packet a stark contrast to the sterile white corridor, while Zoey picked a Fritos. Then we headed out to the courtyard, the cold evening air feeling cleansing after the humidity of the hospital.

Taking our seats on a distant stone bench, the rustle of the empty chip bags was loud in the quiet air. I ate slowly, trying to bring myself back to reality, but the weight of the secrets, the photos, the note, Kian’s injury was crushing.

“How is Ezra doing?” I asked, the question escaping on a breath. A sense of warmth mixed with guilt rushed over me, replacing the sharp memory of Tonia’s accusation. He was the only thing that mattered.

“He is fine,” Zoey reassured me, her tone instantly softening. “I made sure of that before I left the house. He is safe with Margaret. They were playing with his new train set.”

I nodded slowly, sighing deeply. “I have not been the best mother to him. I hope he doesn't resent me for this.” The worry was constant, a painful knot in my chest.

“Hey,” Zoey reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “We all know how much Ezra loves you. And you are not at fault here, Eli. You are fighting for his safety. This isn't your fault; it's just life throwing things your way.”

I just nodded slowly, but it didn't sit deep inside. Tonia's words, "pitiful slut," were ringing in my ears, reminding me of the sacrifices and the lies that defined my life now.

Zoey leaned back, her voice quieter now. “So how are you, really?”

“I'm fine. Why?” I lied instantly.

“You don't look fine, Eli.” She paused, the shift in her expression turning serious. She dropped the question I didn't want

to hear, the one that touched the core of my fear. “Did almost losing him scare you that much?"