Chapter 98: juat give her time
"Just give her time. I know she’ll come around," Damon said, his expression soft and pitiful.
"I need to leave. I have work to do. Will you be okay?" he asked.
I forced a small smile. "I’m fine, Damon. Don’t worry about me."
He studied my face for a moment, as if trying to see through the lie I had just told, then he sighed and patted my shoulder before turning and walking away.
Eric and Sullivan remained standing there, awkward and unsure of what to say or do. Their silence hung heavy in the air, thick with concern and helplessness.
I let out a small chuckle and shook my head. "You guys don’t have to stand like that," I said lightly. "I need to go home anyway. Just make sure she’s not out of your sight."
They nodded immediately, grateful to have something to do.
Without waiting for anything else, I turned and left the hospital.
Truth be told, I needed the break. I needed a proper bath and a change of clothes. My hands still throbbed beneath the bandages, the dull ache a constant reminder of everything that had happened. Even though I had been discharged because my condition was stable, the pain hadn’t lessened.
And Lena...
I had asked them to move her into my room so I could take care of her myself. I thought,no, I believed, it was the right thing to do.
But who would have thought she would react that way when she woke up?
The memory of her fear-filled eyes, the way she recoiled from me like I was a stranger... or worse, a monster, made my chest tighten painfully.
I clenched my jaw and pushed the thought aside as I drove home.
—
When I got home, the first thing I noticed was the familiar scent of food drifting from the kitchen. It was warm, comforting... almost mocking.
I stepped inside and found Bertha busy at work, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease.
She must have been preparing food to take to the hospital again. That’s what she had been doing ever since I woke up, taking care of us in the quiet, selfless way she always did.
She turned the moment she sensed my presence.
"Why are you back? What about Lena?" she
asked, her brows knitting together in worry.
"She’s still at the hospital," I replied, loosening my collar slightly. "You can take her food there. She’s awake."
Bertha froze.
"What? She’s awake?" she asked, her voice rising in disbelief.
I nodded.
The next second, she let out a loud, excited scream. "I need to call Mama and Sylvia and inform them! This is great news. I bet Mama will be so happy that both of you are awake!"
She hurriedly began searching for her phone,
muttering to herself as she did.
A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched her. Her joy was genuine, pure. It was a sharp contrast to the chaos swirling inside me.
Without saying another word, I turned and headed upstairs.
The house felt emptier than usual. Quiet. Hollow.
Ever since I dismissed all the maids, it had lost whatever life it once had.
Each step I took echoed faintly, the silence pressing in on me.
When I got upstairs, I walked straight into my room, our room.
The room Lena and I used to share.
I paused for a moment at the door, my hand resting on the handle as memories flooded in uninvited. Her laughter. Her voice. The way she used to move around like she owned every inch of the space.
I exhaled slowly and stepped inside.
Without thinking too much, I stripped off my clothes and headed into the bathroom. I took my time under the shower, carefully making sure water didn’t touch the bandaged wounds.
The cool water cascaded over my body, washing away the sweat, the exhaustion... but not the weight on my chest.
Nothing could wash that away.
After I was done, I got dressed, grabbed my keys, and headed downstairs again.
I didn’t feel like staying home.
So I decided to take my Maserati out.
Driving wasn’t exactly the smartest decision, considering my hands were still bandaged and the pain hadn’t subsided, but I didn’t care.
The engine roared to life, smooth and powerful beneath me, and for a moment, the familiar sensation grounded me.
I drove straight to my grandfather’s house.
By the time I got there, the sun had shifted slightly in the sky, casting long shadows across the compound.
I parked, stepped out, and walked briskly inside.
The butler greeted me with a respectful nod.
"Where is Grandpa?" I asked.
"In his study, sir," he replied immediately.
I nodded and made my way there.
When I reached the door, I knocked.
"Come in," my grandfather’s voice called from inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped in.
He was seated comfortably, a newspaper spread out before him, his glasses perched neatly on his nose as he read.
"Good afternoon, Grandpa," I greeted, taking a seat opposite him.
He lowered the newspaper slightly, peering at me over the rim of his glasses.
"I’m fine," he said. "But how come you’re here on your own without me having to force you to visit? Did something happen?"
I leaned forward slightly, clasping my hands together. "Nothing happened, Grandpa. I just want to call a family meeting."
His eyes sharpened almost immediately.
"Does this have anything to do with you and over two hundred men leaving the city?" he asked calmly.
I blinked, then leaned back.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about," I said smoothly. "For all I know, those cars that left the city were connected to the government or armed forces. What does that have to do with me?"
He folded his newspaper neatly and set it aside.
"The raiding of Oasis Island by the police and the busting of one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, Darius," he said. "Last I remember, he used to be your buddy before you both had a fallout. I thought you killed him then. So how come he’s back?"
I frowned slightly.
"Do you follow me everywhere I go?" I asked, irritation creeping into my voice. "How do you even know about the fight between me and Darius from years ago?"
I prided myself on being efficient. Secretive.
I hated it when someone could sit down and dismantle my carefully hidden life like it was nothing.
He chuckled.
"You are my favorite grandson. Of course I would want to know what you’re up to, especially since you don’t tell me anything," he said. "I used to do it because I was worried about you... but now?"
A small smile spread across his face.
"Now I do it for fun. You’re more than capable of
taking care of yourself."
I couldn’t help but relax at that word. I leaned back into the chair, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
"Is Lena okay?" he asked suddenly.
The question wiped the smile off my face.
I nodded slowly. "She’ll live. But... we lost our child in the process. And she’s not taking it well."
His expression softened.
"You’re both still young. You can have another," he said gently.
I raised a brow at him.
"Grandpa, when did you start taking Lena’s side?" I asked. "I remember you threatening not to give me the company if I didn’t marry Cynthia."
He scoffed lightly.
"And you did everything you could to fight me," he said. "Cynthia never really stood a chance."
He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other.
"I wanted control over the Moores Group, that’s why I pushed for that marriage. But since it didn’t work out..." he shrugged. "Maybe it’s better this way. You should choose someone you actually love."
His gaze met mine meaningfully.
"And since you love Lena, why not?"
He continued, almost thoughtfully.
"I never hated Lena. I admired her. She’s outspoken, articulate, intelligent. The day you brought her to dinner, I saw it. And when I realized she was the brain behind that so-called love triangle..."
He chuckled.
"That girl is brilliant. She has her own company. You have yours. So why not?"
I smirked slightly.
"And I know the both of you teamed up to frustrate Cynthia," he added. "Now my question is, why do you hate Cynthia that much?"
I hesitated.
"Are you sure you want to know?" I asked.
He nodded, his eyes locked onto mine.
I exhaled once.
"Because she’s fucking Lucas."
The words dropped like a bomb.
"What?" His eyes widened in horror. "You must be joking."
"I caught them years ago," I said coldly. "I couldn’t handle it, so I left for York City. When I came back, you asked me to marry her."
I let out a humorless laugh.
"She disgusted me. I couldn’t stand her. But even then, she didn’t stop. I have video evidence, if you want to see it."
He raised his hand quickly. "I’ll pass."
Silence filled the room for a moment.
"I’m sorry, son," he said quietly. "I didn’t know. You
should have told me."
I shrugged.
"It doesn’t matter now."
He nodded slowly. "What do you plan to do?"
I leaned forward again, my expression turning serious.
"Grandpa, I came here today to ask for your permission. I don’t want to do anything that would make you angry with me."
He studied me for a long moment.
"What is it you want to do?"
I didn’t hesitate.
"I think someone in our family was responsible for Lena’s kidnapping," I said quietly. "And that same person wanted me dead. It was carefully orchestrated... and I can’t let it go."
The air in the room shifted instantly.
"Raymond," he said firmly, "do whatever you see fit to whoever was responsible. I don’t like the idea that someone wants to kill you."
His gaze hardened.
"You have my full authority to investigate... and deal with them."
Relief washed over me.
"Thank you, Grandpa."
I stood up slightly, then added, "My first step is to call everyone for a family dinner. I’ll also be inviting Lena’s family."
He nodded.
"That’s fine."
"I trust you to do the right thing," he said.
Then, just as quickly as the tension had risen, it eased.
"Now," he said, a grin spreading across his face,
"Come and tell me how the fight on the island went. I miss my fighting days."
I huffed out a small laugh.
For once, I didn’t argue.
And that was how I found myself sitting there, recounting everything, bonding with my grandfather like we used to, if only for a moment, forgetting the storm that was yet to come.
