The Heiress' Husband

The ambulance ride to Eryndor General Hospital was suffocating.

Nessa sat stiffly in the corner, arms wrapped around herself, trying to stay out of the paramedics' way as they worked on Raelynn. Last she remembered, there was a strict policy against allowing people to follow, but they hadn't stopped her. Maybe the blank, zombie-like state she'd been in had made them see no point in arguing.

She didn't care.

The only thing that mattered at that moment, was Raelynn.

The bright red of blood stained the stretcher beneath her, stark against the pale blue of the hospital sheets.

Too much blood.

Nessa's stomach churned, and she forced her gaze away from Raelynn's motionless body.

She was still breathing. Barely.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor tethered her to reality, but it did little to quell the panic clawing up her throat.

One of the paramedics checked Raelynn's pulse, his jaw visibly tightening. "BP's dropping. We need to move faster."

The driver swerved through traffic, sirens screaming into the night.

Nessa gripped the cold metal railing of the stretcher. "She's going to be okay, right?"

The paramedic didn't look at her. "We're doing everything we can."

The words felt hollow.

She wanted to scream at him, shake him, make him promise that Raelynn would wake up, but she couldn't. She had no strength for anger. Only fear.

The paramedic reached for a syringe, injecting something into Raelynn's IV line. Nessa forced herself to take slow, steady breaths, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

She should have stopped this.

She should have done something.

Instead, she had watched.

She had watched as Jake and Stella, those two snakes, stood there, unbothered, as Raelynn lay crumpled on the floor, blood pooling beneath her head.

And she had done nothing.

Her nails bit into her palms.

She hadn't done anything then.

But she would now.

—

The hospital was too bright.

Too sterile.

Too filled with the quiet hum of tragedy.

Nessa sat hunched in a plastic chair in the waiting area, fingers tangled together, pressing hard enough to hurt. The clipboard a nurse had handed her rested on her lap, its pages blurred.

She could barely remember filling it out.

Raelynn's name.

Lancaster.

A name that carried weight.

Her age. 24

The emergency contact details that meant nothing because no next of kin could save her now.

A shadow loomed in the doorway.

Not one. Three.

Nessa tensed, glancing up.

Henry Lancaster.

He didn't come alone.

Two men flanked him, one carrying a tablet, the other scanning the waiting area with an assessing gaze that made Nessa's skin crawl.

Raelynn's grandfather.

The man she had called the moment they arrived at the hospital.

She hadn't wanted to.

But she had no choice.

He was family.

He was power.

He was the man who controlled Raelynn's entire life, and yet…

There was no urgency in his expression. No panic.

Just… presence.

His sharp gaze swept over the room, assessing it as though he was walking into a meeting instead of a hospital where his granddaughter was fighting for her life.

He didn't ask where Raelynn was.

He didn't ask what happened.

His indifference made her stomach twist.

Nessa swallowed hard, gripping the edges of the clipboard.

There was something about Henry Lancaster that unsettled her.

He didn't belong here.

Hospitals were for grieving families.

For people who prayed for miracles.

Henry Lancaster didn't pray.

He made things happen.

And that terrified her.

Nessa looked away, focusing on the stark white of the walls.

She didn't need to speak to him.

Not now.

Not when she didn't even have answers herself.

A doctor entered the waiting area, flipping through a chart.

Nessa shot to her feet. "Are you here for Miss Lancaster?"

The doctor's gaze flicked to her. "Yes. Are you a relative?"

She hesitated.

"I'm…"

What was she?

Not family.

Not officially.

Not legally.

But she was something.

A friend. A witness. The only one Raelynn had here.

"Yes," she said finally. "I'm here for her."

The doctor nodded, glancing at the papers in his hands.

"She's stable," he said.

The weight in Nessa's chest lifted—just for a moment.

Then—

"She's in a coma."

The words slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs.

The world tilted.

"What?" she whispered.

The doctor sighed. "She suffered severe head trauma. There was swelling in her brain, but we managed to stabilize her. For now, she's not waking up."

"How long?" she heard herself ask.

"We don't know."

The doctor's words blurred after that.

Something about monitoring. Something about time.

Nessa barely heard it.

Raelynn was alive.

But she wasn't here.

Not really.

The room around her felt distant, the voices fading into static.

Henry Lancaster turned and walked away without a word.

Did he even react?

She didn't know.

Didn't care.

Because there was one more call she had to make.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, shaking as she scrolled through her contacts.

She knew who she had to call.

But the weight of it made her hesitate.

She wasn't supposed to reach out to him unless absolutely necessary. That had been the rule. A silent agreement. One she had followed without question.

Until now.

Her heart pounded.

If she called, it would change things.

It would bring him into this.

And if he got involved…

She wasn't sure she was ready for that.

But Raelynn was in a coma.

She had almost died.

And no matter how much she hesitated, there was no way to avoid this.

Her breath came shakily as she pressed the call button.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Then—

His voice.

Sharp. "Ness?"

She inhaled unsteadily.

And then—

"It's Raelynn."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

"What happened?"

His voice had lost its edge. It was lower now. Controlled.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "She's in the hospital. It's bad."

Another pause.

Tense.

Cold.

"Where?"

"Eryndor General."

Another beat of silence.

Then, a single response.

"I'm on my way."

The line went dead.

Nessa lowered the phone, gripping it tightly.

The weight of the call settled over her.

She had made the call.

There was no undoing it now.

She exhaled shakily and slumped back in the chair, the exhaustion creeping in like a slow, suffocating wave.

Outside, the night pressed against the hospital windows. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead buzzed in her ears.

Her hands were still shaking when she tucked her phone away. She exhaled, pressing her palms against her face, willing herself to hold it together.

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and grief.

Somewhere down the hall, a monitor beeped.

A nurse walked past, murmuring softly to a colleague.

Life continued moving.

Even as hers felt like it was about to unravel.

---

The waiting area felt like it existed outside of time. Nessa's fingers curled around the fabric of her jeans, gripping hard to stop her hands from shaking. The exhaustion pressed down on her, but she couldn't rest. Not when Raelynn was still behind closed doors, trapped somewhere between life and the void.

Then, the glass doors at the entrance slid open.

She knew before she even looked.

The shift in the air. The way the hospital staff straightened. The way the security guard near the entrance tensed, instinctively aware that someone had entered who didn't quite belong.

He moved with sharp, purposeful strides, his coat sweeping behind him, his presence swallowing the space around him.

Nessa clenched her jaw.

Of course, he came.

The phone was already at his ear, voice low but edged with something cold.

"No. That's not good enough." A pause. "I don't care about policy. She needs to be moved to a private suite immediately."

A beat of silence. A slight tilt of his head.

"Yes. Now."

The receptionist hesitated as he approached, eyes flickering up warily.

Nessa exhaled slowly.

She should have expected this.

He never stayed on the sidelines.

And now, whether she was ready for it or not...

He was here.