Chapter 3 - The Hospital and the Shadow
The emergency room at St. Jude’s Memorial Hospital smelled of rubbing alcohol, floor wax, and ozone.
I sat on the edge of the examination bed under the harsh fluorescent lights, wrapped in a warm blanket that a nurse had placed around my shoulders. The local anesthesia was beginning to wear off, leaving a dull, throbbing ache along the left side of my face.
A plastic surgeon had just finished applying fourteen delicate stitches across my cheekbone. The bone wasn't shattered, thank God, but it was deeply fractured. The doctor had warned me that even with the best cosmetic care, a thin, faint line would likely remain on my cheek forever.
Nathan sat on a plastic chair in the corner of the room, his laptop open on his knees, his fingers clicking rapidly across the keyboard.
"Your father is currently being booked at the Central Precinct," Nathan said without looking up from his screen. "Felony assault with a deadly weapon, domestic violence, and obstruction of justice. The magistrate refused bail because of the witness statements and my audio recording."
"And my mother?" I asked, my voice muffled by the thick bandage on my face.
"She’s currently at the precinct with two high-priced defense lawyers trying to get him out," Nathan replied with a grim smile. "Chloe is with her, crying to anyone who will listen that she’s the real victim of media harassment. The news has already caught wind of it, Evelyn. 'Logistics Tycoon Arrested for Hammer Attack on Bride Daughter.' It's everywhere."
I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the cold wall. "What about Adrian?"
The room went quiet for a moment. The only sound was the hum of the heart monitor in the adjacent bay.
"Have you called him?" I asked, opening my eyes to look at Nathan.
"I haven't," Nathan said softly. "I figured you would want to tell him yourself. But Evelyn... his personal assistant called my office twenty minutes ago asking why six police cars were parked at your parents' house."
Before I could answer, the door to the examination room swung open.
Adrian Vale stood in the doorway.
He was dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, his tie slightly loosened at the collar. His hair, usually meticulously styled, was slightly messy from the wind outside. His face was unreadable, carved from cold marble, his dark gray eyes scanning the room until they landed on me.
He saw the thick white bandage covering half my face. He saw the faint yellow and purple bruising already spreading down my neck. He saw the dried blood still clinging to my hairline.
For three seconds, Adrian didn't move. He didn't speak. But I saw the muscle in his jaw clench so hard that a vein pulsed along his temple.
He walked into the room, ignoring Nathan completely. He stopped right beside my bed, reached out with a hand that was trembling ever so slightly, and gently touched the air an inch above my bandage, as if he were afraid that even a breath would cause me pain.
"Who did this?" Adrian asked. His voice was low, smooth, and terrified me with its absolute lack of emotion. It was the voice he used when he was about to destroy a hostile corporate competitor.
"My father," I said quietly.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"
"Because," Nathan spoke up from the corner, closing his laptop, "they wanted Chloe to walk down the aisle on Saturday instead of Evelyn. They thought if Evelyn was disfigured, you would reject her and take her younger sister as a replacement."
Adrian turned his head slowly to look at Nathan. "They thought I would what?"
"They believed you only cared about having an attractive trophy bride," I explained, holding my hand out to Adrian.
Adrian took my hand immediately, wrapping his long, warm fingers around mine, holding it tight against his chest.
"They are even more foolish than I thought," Adrian said, his voice dropping to an icy whisper. "They thought I was marrying you for a face? I am marrying you because you are the only person in this city who has a soul that isn't for sale."
He turned back to Nathan. "Where is Harold Mercer right now?"
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"Central Precinct," Nathan replied. "Holding cell."
"Good," Adrian said, leaning down to press his lips softly against my forehead, right above my uninjured brow. "Keep him there. I am going to make sure he never sees the outside of a prison wall again."
