Chapter 251
A heavy, crushing weight of disappointment settled directly over his fractured ribs. A wave of dizziness washed over him, blurring the edges of her face. The fluorescent lights overhead felt like daggers behind his eyes — a stark reminder of the concussion — and every shallow breath made it hard not to wince.
Belle squeezed his hand, her eyes brimming with tears. “Gray, you’re awake. I was so terrified.”
He didn’t squeeze back. He slowly pulled his hand out from under hers, the movement sending a sharp spike of agony through his chest that made him clench his jaw. He turned his head, his vision swimming, and tried to focus on the empty leather sofa in the corner of the VIP suite.
Outside the heavy oak door, the sharp, angry clicking of high heels echoed down the corridor.
The door flew open. Victoria Lancaster stormed into the room, her face flushed a dark, ugly red. She hurled her limited-edition handbag onto the sofa. “Where is she?!”
She turned to glare at Liam, who had quietly followed her inside. Liam kept his eyes fixed on his tablet. “Madam Isolde’s personal number is no longer in service, and my messages have not been delivered. It appears she may have blocked all forms of contact from the Lancaster family.”
Victoria let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “She is declaring war on the Lancaster family! My son is lying in a hospital bed with broken bones because he saved her pathetic life, and she is playing hide-and-seek!”
A slow, rhythmic thud echoed from the hallway.
Thwack. Thwack.
Beatrice Lancaster appeared in the doorway, leaning heavily on her silver-handled cane. Her head butler stood a respectful pace behind her. Beatrice’s eyes swept over the room, cold and sharp.
“Victoria. Put away your shrewish posture. This is a hospital, not a reality television set.”
𝗥𝗲𝘢𝘥 𝗳𝘳𝗈m 𝘺о𝘂r рh𝘰ոе o𝗻 𝗀𝘢lոo𝗏𝗲l𝘀.𝘤o𝘮
Victoria immediately snatched her handbag off the sofa, her face twisting into a mask of victimhood. “Mother, I am just speaking up for Grayson. It isn’t right.”
Beatrice ignored her. She walked slowly to the side of the bed, her eyes flicking over the heart monitor, the IV bags, and finally settling on Grayson’s pale face.
Grayson swallowed hard. His throat felt like sandpaper. “Water.”
Belle immediately jumped up from her chair, grabbed the plastic pitcher, and poured a cup, her hands trembling slightly. “Here, Gray. Drink slowly.”
Grayson took a small sip, deliberately avoiding Belle’s face. His eyes drifted back to the door.
“Stop looking,” Beatrice said. Her voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a gavel. “She didn’t come.”
Grayson’s heart monitor beeped slightly faster. The muscle in his jaw feathered. “I wasn’t looking for her.”
Victoria scoffed from the corner. “That heartless woman ran away with her baggage before the ambulance even arrived. Belle is the one who stayed here all night.”
Beatrice struck her cane against the linoleum floor.
“Victoria, get out,” she ordered. “I have questions for my grandson.”
Victoria opened her mouth to argue, but the absolute authority in Beatrice’s eyes silenced her. She shot a venomous glare at Belle and marched out of the room.
.