Semua Bab Bound to my Ex husband’s uncle: Bab 71 - Bab 80

The front door closes behind me with a heavy, final-sounding click. The house is quiet for only a few seconds before Ethan’s voice cuts through the silence from the living room.“You sent it back.”I stop in the foyer, bag still over my shoulder. He is standing near the large windows, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, the expensive watch on his wrist catching the late-afternoon light. His face is flushed, jaw locked so tight the muscle jumps. The note I left with the delivery men is crumpled in one of his hands.“You walked into your office, in front of every single person who works under this family, and rejected thirty-eight million dollars like it was a cheap bouquet,” he says, voice rising with every word. “Do you have any idea what that looks like? What people are already saying? That I can’t even control my own wife? That she publicly humiliated me after I tried to make things right?”I set my bag down slowly. “You didn’t try to make things right. You tried to buy the narrative.

I sleep for what feels like only two hours. The small bedroom in Aunt Maren’s apartment is dark and quiet, the sheets plain and unfamiliar against my skin. Exhaustion finally drags me under, but it is shallow and restless….full of fragmented images of Ethan’s face when I walked out, the crumpled note about the diamonds, the nurse’s careful voice on the phone. When the phone rings again the sound is sharp enough to jolt me upright, heart already racing before I even see the hospital number on the screen.“Ms. Amelia?” The same neutral voice from earlier, only tighter now. “I’m sorry to call at this hour. There’s been a development with your father’s condition. Removing him from the private specialist protocols and the experimental medication has caused a rapid decline. His vitals are unstable. The attending physician believes he needs to be restored to the previous level of care as soon as possible or we risk further deterioration. Possibly irreversible.”The words hit like ice water

Dante keeps one arm steady around my shoulders as we walk through the automatic doors into the bright, sterile glare of the hospital. Thr scent of disinfectant and recycled air hits me immediately. My legs feel unsteady, but his presence is solid beside me, guiding me past the reception desk and down the corridor toward the ward where my father is being kept. A nurse recognizes me and quickly leads us to a small consultation room just off the main hallway. The doctor is already waiting…..an older man with tired eyes and a tablet in his hands.We sit. Dante remains close, his coat still on, the quiet authority of his presence filling the small room. I can barely speak. Fhe doctor begins explaining in careful, measured sentences.My father’s condition deteriorated rapidly once the private specialist protocols and experimental medication were withdrawn. His blood pressure became unstable, oxygen levels dropped. The attending team believes the sudden change in his regimen triggered

By daybreak the sky outside Aunt Maren’s apartment has turned a pale, washed-out gray. I have not really slept. The events of the night sit too heavily in my chest….the second hospital call, the panic, Dante arriving under the entrance lights, my father’s still face in the dim room, the quiet conversation in the car afterward. My body feels hollowed out.I sit on the edge of the bed in the early light and call the office. My voice is rough when the receptionist answers. I tell her I will not be coming in today. I am not in the right frame of mind to work. She offers polite sympathy and says she will note it for Professor Harrison. I thank her and end the call.Then I text Claire.Can you come over? Aunt Maren’s place. I need to talk. Everything happened last night.She replies within minutes. On my way. Don’t move.I make coffee that I barely drink and sit at the small kitchen table until the knock comes. When I open the door Claire takes one look at my face and pulls me into a hard

I walk into the research floor the next morning with my bag over my shoulder and a carefully neutral expression. The office is already moving at its usual pace….keyboards, low conversations, the smell of coffee drifting from the break room. A few people glance up as I pass. Tiffany’s eyes track me for a second longer than necessary, but I do not acknowledge her. I go straight to my desk, set my bag down, and power on the laptop as if the last two days had been ordinary.Professor Harrison appears at the side of my desk within minutes. He looks mildly concerned, glasses slightly fogged from the walk over.“Amelia. Good to see you back. You called in sick yesterday.,..everything all right?”I offer a small, practiced smile. “Yes. Just a bad case of the flu but im fine now.”He studies my face for a moment, then nods, clearly choosing to accept the simple explanation. “Good. Because I need you for something. We’ve got a short-notice materials analysis request….chemical composition