Chapter 378
Tarquin carried Elysia back to Elijah’s hospital suite with utmost care. Elijah’s suite was more than just a room; it boasted an adjoining family room, a small kitchte, and a private bathroom, ensuring comfort not just for the patient but for the visitors as well.
With a gentleness that belied his sturdy frame, Tarquin laid Elysia down on the sofa bed in the family room, fluffing up pillows and tucking the duvet around her with meticulous attention. He then summoned the attending nurse to check on Elysia once more, ensuring her comfort and safety above all.
Despite Elysia’s protestations about not being a delicate flower, especially when compared to the high society ladies of the Bradford family, her lack of martial prowess was evident. She might have escaped facial injuries, but her body told a different tale with its bruises and contusions. The nurse captured images of the injuries for Tarquin, whose face turned an ashen shade of anger at the sight.
He immediately reached for his phone and dialed Gideon Bradford, rattling off orders with a tone that brooked no argument, “Send them abroad, today. They’re never to return. My decision is final p>
Gideon, well aware of the situation’s gravity, attempted to intercede, “Come now, Tarquin, they’re your kin. You share the same Bradford blood. Isn’t forgiveness a virtue? Let’s not be hasty over an incident that didn’t result in any lasting harm p>
“Forgiveness is God’s domain. My role is far simpler – ensure justice. They can flee or face the consequences. And tomorrow, being the perfect day, will see matters settled, one way or another p>
“Giving up on your own flesh and blood over an outsider? Driving them from their home forever?” Gideon’s voice was heavy with disappointment and disbelief.
“Who’s an outsider, and who’s family?” Tarquin’s laugh was cold, a sound devoid of any warmth. “Blood ties mean nothing to me. If they did, my parents wouldn’t have died far from home, abandoned. It’s simple — those who stand by me and Elijah, they’re my true family. The rest are just shadows p>
This was the ethos Tarquin lived by, a belief etched deep into his very essence from a young age. The concept of blood ties held no allure for him, particularly when those who were supposed to be closest to him had shown their true colors time and again.
Gideon tried to argue, but Tarquin cut him off, “They have one day to make their choice. And let this be clear — I protect my own fiercely. Elysia is under my protection. Cross her, and you cross me p>
After ending the call, Tarquin took a moment to calm the storm within him before returning to Elysia’s side. He sat there quietly, caressing her hand, his eyes full of concern and affection.
“How could you be so reckless?” he mused to himself, almost tenderly. “You’re as light as a feather, yet you throw yourself into the fray p>
He knew she had been upset about something at the hospital, likely coming to find him for support. “Why would you not come to me first?” he questioned, though she couldn’t hear him. “Do you not know I’d fight the world for you p>
His thoughts were interrupted when Elysia suddenly opened her eyes, finding Tarquin’s hand still lingering near her collar, which he had partially lowered in his concern to assess her injuries.
Their eyes met, shock on one side, mortification on the other.
Elysia’s response was swift as she slapped away his hand and sat up, her own hand connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap, “What are you doing p>
The sound echoed through the room, marking a profound moment of misunderstanding in the stillness that followed.