Chapter 3

Leonard took the scalpel from Dr. Hendricks with a grave expression and got to work without a word. My eyelids grew heavy. The anesthesia was setting in, and I drifted under.

I dreamed for what felt like a very long time.

In the dream, Mom married Leonard when I was only ten years old. On the first day we stepped through his front door, I saw a young man smile down at me with warmth and gather me into his arms.

He said, "This is your home now, son. And I'm your father."

Then the scene shifted, and the man I had called my father for ten years was the same one dragging my bleeding body out of the operating room.

I woke from the nightmare drenched in sweat. When I turned my head, Mom was sitting beside me. She had rushed here the moment she saw the news, traveling all the way from our hometown without stopping. Her eyes were red and swollen as she looked me over.

I had no strength left. All I could manage was a weak shake of my head. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

The words had barely left my mouth when the door to my room was thrown open. Leonard stood in the doorway, his expression hard and unreadable.

"Now that you're awake, you need to move to a standard room. Damien's health is fragile. He needs this private suite."

He did not wait for me to respond. A group of maids filed in behind him, their arms loaded with luggage. They set it all down, then walked straight over and grabbed me to haul me out.

They were not gentle about it. Rough hands tore at the wound on my chest, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the color drained from my face.

Mom threw herself between us.

"Leonard, what the hell are you doing? He's injured! You can't move him!"

One of the maids scoffed. "Why should a murderer get a room this nice? You're lucky we're not throwing you out of the hospital entirely."

I froze. The maid to my right rolled her eyes with open contempt, and it clicked almost instantly. They thought I was the killer. They believed Damien was the officer who had been injured in the line of duty.

The whole city was praising Leonard as a hero. The renowned heart surgeon who had saved a brave young soldier's life and then shown mercy by operating on a murderer as well. No one knew the truth that I was the police cadet who had nearly died on the job.

I tried to speak, to explain, but before I could get a word out, they tossed me into the corridor.

I hit the cold floor hard. The wound across my chest split wide open, and blood soaked through my hospital gown. The pain in my body did not come close to what I felt inside.

The hallway was packed with onlookers who had no idea what was really going on. They pointed and sneered, calling me ungrateful, saying I deserved to die.

Damien rolled past me in a wheelchair, pushed by Leonard himself. As they passed, Damien raised an eyebrow and flashed me a taunting smile. "Face it. You're just some fatherless nobody. You really think you can compete with me?"

In the end, it was Mom who helped me back to my room. She held my hand tight, tears streaming down her face, whispering apologies over and over.

"This is all my fault, sweetheart. I should never have married him. None of this would have happened if I hadn't. I couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry."

I fought through the pain and pulled her into my arms, patting her back gently. "It's not your fault. I chose this path myself. I don't regret it."

After the nurse rebandaged my wound, Mom went downstairs with her to get me something to eat. That was when Leonard showed up at my door. He placed a container on the nightstand beside me, his manner as warm and casual as if nothing had happened.

"I went home and made the soup myself. You used to love my cooking when you were little. Try it and tell me what you think."

He sat down and spoke as though the morning had been nothing more than a misunderstanding.

"I was a little harsh earlier. Don't take it to heart. You know Damien's situation is complicated right now. The hospital needs to handle his security carefully. Besides, I already reviewed your chart. You just need some rest.

"This room is further from the main corridor, so it's actually quieter. You'll recover better here."