Ch-50

•~•Aziel’s POV

I wheeled down the sterile corridor, stopping in front of Ward 3B—the room the nurse had pointed me to at reception.

Outside the room, the glass sliding door separated me from the people inside.

My mother was perched on a chair beside the bed, leaning in with concern carved into every line of her face.

Dominic stood behind her, arms crossed, silent. But it was the man lying in that bed that made my blood run cold.

Davian Foster.

Tubes snaked into his arms, his wrist wrapped in surgical tape. One eye was bruised and swollen, lips split.

His skin was yellowed, sunken—like someone who had been dragged out of the grave and shoved into a hospital gown.

"Bastard," I muttered, the word bitter in my mouth. "I should’ve killed him that day.”

————

That day…

The gunshot echoed through the room.

Davian jerked violently, his eyes snapping open.

He slowly reached up to touch his forehead—the exact spot where my gun had been pressed just moments ago—and blinked in confusion.

His gaze snapped to the gun in my hand, aimed at the ceiling.

“I’m alive?” he whispered in disbelief, his voice trembling.

Then I noticed the growing dampness around his thighs.

“Ew. What the hell?” I recoiled, glancing down at the puddle spreading across the floor. “You seriously pissed yourself?”

I stood up, stepping back immediately, lifting one foot in disgust as part of it touched the sole of my shoe.

I lowered the gun, my eyes still fixed on Davian, who was still shaking. I let out a sigh. “Congratulations. You’re getting a second chance,” I said coldly.

“Wh—what?” He stuttered. “Are you letting me go?”

“Mmm.” I hummed, nodding once.

“This is me trusting you… just this once. You keep your mouth shut about Irene and everything else you’ve learned while you’re here.”

“...But if, after I let you go, I find out you’ve been running your filthy mouth… I’ll hunt you down. And I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.”

He blinked, his body still trembling, but he didn’t say a word.

I turned and walked toward the exit. Ryan followed, dragging my wheelchair behind him, and shut the door quietly as we left.

Once we were outside, Ryan pulled off his ski mask, revealing his face. I handed him the gun.

“Get him cleaned up,” I said, my voice flat. “Put him on a flight back to Switzerland in a few days. I want this done cleanly. No screw-ups.”

“Yes, boss.”

I nodded and started to leave, but Ryan’s voice stopped me.

“Boss.”

I paused, glancing over my shoulder. “What is it?”

He hesitated, the silence stretching between us. “I don’t get it. You said you wanted to kill him yourself. Hell, you even had us prep the spot where we would bury his corpse... So what changed?”

I stood still for a moment, gathering my thoughts together.

“I saw it in his eyes. The way he trembled, the way his body betrayed him.” My voice dropped lower, almost like I was speaking to myself. 

“I mean the bastard pissed himself, Ryan. And I just thought…that kind of fear was enough to keep him quiet for the rest of his life.”

Ryan nodded slowly, but there was something uncertain in his expression, something lingering that hadn’t settled.

“But boss… are you really sure it’s safe to let him go? I mean, considering everything he knows?”

————

Present…

I clenched my fists against the armrests of my wheelchair.

Ryan had been right. It wasn't safe. I should've killed him that night.

But hold on...

Today was supposed to be his transfer. Ryan and the guys were supposed to get him on a flight back to Switzerland.

So how the hell had they managed to lose him—only for Dominic to find him and bring him to the hospital?

The door slid open.

I looked up to find Dominic standing there, his face unreadable.

“Your mother’s waiting for you, sir,” he said, his voice flat.

I gave a brief nod. He stepped aside, leaving the door open for me to wheel through.

I hesitated for a moment, then pushed forward. As I crossed the threshold, he slid the door shut behind me and stayed outside.

The air in the room was thick. Suffocating.

My mother didn’t even glance my way.

But Davian did—a quick flicker of eye contact, then he looked away again.

I took a slow breath.

‘Stay calm. Act normal.’ The bastard couldn’t have told her anything. He couldn’t have.

“It’s good to have you back, Mr. Foster,” I said, my tone casual, forcing a polite smile.

He didn’t respond, still avoiding my gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on his hospital covers.

Trying to ease the tension, I shifted my gaze to my mother. “I’m sure you’re working closely with the police to track down the people behind his abduction.”

She didn’t react immediately, only narrowing her eyes before standing up from her seat, folding her arms across her chest. “Cut the act. I know it was you.”

My breath caught in my throat. My eyes flicked toward Davian, who still wouldn’t meet my gaze, then back to my mother.

“And who the hell told you that lie?” I made sure my voice was steady.

“Why would I kidnap my physiatrist?” I added, letting the words hang in the air for just a second too long.

“It’s not a lie,” she said, her tone firm, no hesitation. 

“One of your goons, the one who couldn’t escape, confessed to Dominic that you hired him to have Davian kidnapped…”

“...And Davian himself said you came to him while he was in captivity and told him you had him taken because you thought he and I were sleeping together.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ, Nathaniel. Why would you stoop so low?”

She gestured toward Davian, her voice thick with disgust. “Look at what your hired men did to him. All because of your twisted assumptions.”

I clenched my teeth.

He hadn’t told her about Irene or the fact that I could walk, which only meant one thing—he was using the whole “sleeping with my mom” story as a cover for the real reasons I had him kidnapped.

“I can explain,” I said, keeping my tone controlled.

“No,” she cut me off sharply. “I don’t want an explanation. If it weren’t for the relationship between Davian and me, you know he could’ve gone straight to the cops, right?”

“Can you just imagine the headlines?” She shook her head, raising an eyebrow. 

“‘Nathaniel Grant, CEO of Grant Holdings, kidnaps physiatrist over affair suspicions with his mother.’ Is that really what you wanted?” Her voice was heavy with judgment.

I actually wouldn't mind if that happened. I mean that would be almost enough to bring the whole company down.

Damn it—I cursed internally, realizing how badly I had miscalculated. Why hadn’t I thought of something like that sooner? 

Wait a minute, I could still leak the news… Maybe it wasn’t too late. All I’d need is a few recordings, some pictures—to turn this whole situation to my advantage.

“Nathaniel!” My mother’s sharp voice snapped me back to reality, breaking my spiraling thoughts.

“Yes?” I answered, nonchalant.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her disappointment palpable. “Have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?”

I didn’t answer, just stared back at her.

“You know what…” She shook her head. “Just apologize to Davian. That’s why I called you here. And it better be a proper apology. Or I’ll…”

Before she could finish, her phone rang, cutting off her words. She glanced down at the screen, her brows furrowing in concern.

“I have to take this,” she muttered, already turning toward the door.

I watched as Dominic silently followed after her, then slowly, I turned to face Davian.

Now, he was looking at me, a proud smirk tugging at his lips.

“How was my acting?” he asked. “Pretty solid, huh?”

“I’d give you a seven out of ten,” I replied.

“It would’ve been a ten if you hadn’t given such a flimsy reason for why I had you kidnapped.”

“Really?” He arched a brow, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with the real reason then. That you had me kidnapped because I know Solane Blackwood is actually Irene Lancaster—the woman your mother thought she killed five years ago…”

“You would’ve broken character and given me a standing ovation if I had just gone with that, right?”

“You bastard,” I hissed, venom coating my words.

He chuckled. “You know, you and Irene really are a match made in heaven. She’s lying about her identity, and so are you, Mr. Aziel Grant,” he mocked.

I clenched my jaw. “Why are you here? You were supposed to be on a flight back to Switzerland. How the hell did you end up here?”

“Oh… Your mom’s buddy, Dominic, found me. Swooped in like some knight in shining armor and beat the crap out of your goons.”

My mind raced. My mother had mentioned one of my men confessing to Dominic, but how? 

How did Dominic even get the location? 

I mean it was the same thing when Irene had me kidnapped back in Paris… He had just appeared, just like Davian had said—like some knight in shining armor.

Something wasn’t adding up.

I straightened, masking the unease crawling up my spine. “Whatever… It doesn’t matter. You’re still going back to Switzerland. That was the deal.”

Davian laughed, then winced in pain. “When did I ever agree to that?”

My eyes narrowed. “You know I could still have you kidnapped…And this time, even if you shit yourself, I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

“I know,” he said calmly. “That’s why I made sure your mother knows you were behind my kidnapping. So if I were to disappear again… well, she’ll suspect you.”

I laughed darkly. “You think she’d care? Even if I were to end your life right here and now and she found out? She’d rather cover it up…”

“So don’t think just because you’re offering her your dick that you’re anything special—or that you mean a damn thing to her.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, that same smug grin on his face. “She wouldn’t. Which is why I’m also recording this conversation.”

My stomach dropped.

He raised a phone, and my instincts kicked in.

I shot up from the wheelchair, taking a step forward, intent on grabbing the phone and smashing it to the floor, but his next words stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Really?... Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to reveal I was recording you without some contingency plans?” He chuckled darkly.

“Sit,” he ordered. “Unless you want someone to catch you out of that chair.”

I sank back, boiling with rage.

“So, my contingency plan is…” He paused for effect, “I have trusted friends listening in and recording everything that’s been said…”

“...In other words, Nathaniel, Aziel, or whatever the hell name you go by, I’ve got enough dirt to bury you.”

“...If you so much as touch me, they’ll leak it, and the whole world will know about Irene, about you being Aziel, not Nathaniel, about you faking your fucking disability… Every damn thing.”

My chest tightened.

“What do you want?” I asked, my voice low.

Davian leaned back, the smug smile stretching wider across his face.

“As long as you pay me,” he said, “the recordings stay safe.”