CHAPTER 53 – WHEN THE WORLD STOPS
L U C I A N
The call came just after midnight.
I wasn't in the office I had been pacing my study for hours, unable to shake the image of Rina's face the last time I saw her.
"Sir," the head of security's voice was tight on the line, "Miss Isla is ill."
Everything inside me went cold.
"How bad?" My voice came out like a whip crack.
"Fever. High. She's crying and asking for her mother."
I was already moving, already taking the stairs two at a time, before the line went dead.
The estate was silent except for the faint sound of Isla's cries coming from the nursery.
The nannies were there, panicked but trying to stay professional.
"She started burning up just after she woke from sleep," one of them said nervously.
I barely heard her.
I crouched by the bed and pressed my palm to Isla's forehead.
She was on fire.
"Papa…" Isla's voice was a weak whisper. "Mama… want Mama…"
My chest tightened like someone had driven a blade through it.
By the time the private pediatrician arrived, Silas was already standing behind me like a shadow.
"Get it down," I ordered curtly.
"Yes, Mr. Dreven," the doctor said, checking Isla carefully, prescribing fever medication and a cool compress.
Then he looked at me.
"She's very attached to her mother, yes?"
I said nothing.
"Then I suggest you get her here," the doctor said gently. "Medicine is one thing but comfort is half the treatment for a child this age. You don't want her to be frightened."
When the doctor left, I stayed in the hall, bracing both hands against the wall.
"She's calling for her," Silas said quietly.
"She tried to run," I bit out.
"She's a mother," Silas replied, unflinching. "She panicked. You would've done the same."
"She thought you were taking her life away," Silas said evenly. "But right now, none of that matters. Isla needs her mother, Lucian."
The silence that followed was so heavy I could hear my own heartbeat.
"Bring her here," I said finally, my voice low but absolute.
Silas nodded once and left without another word.
R I N A
The pounding on my door came like thunder.
When I opened it, Silas stood there, his usual cool expression replaced by something far more urgent.
"Miss Hale," he said, "you need to come with me."
"W-what? Why? What happened?"
"It's Isla," he said simply.
My heart dropped.
I didn't even ask for details. I just grabbed my shoes and followed him out into the night.
The car ride was silent except for the sound of my own breathing.
When we reached the estate, the gates opened for us, and I felt a strange twist in my stomach this place felt like another planet, one I didn't belong to.
Silas led me straight to the nursery.
The moment I saw Isla lying there, her cheeks flushed, her little body weak, something inside me shattered.
"Mama!" she cried the second she saw me, her arms reaching out.
I rushed to her, gathering her close, rocking her gently.
"I'm here, baby. Mama's here."
Her breathing slowed almost immediately, her little body relaxing against mine.
Lucian
I could feel him watching me before I looked up.
Lucian stood in the doorway, still as stone, his expression carved into something unreadable.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The room was quiet except for Isla's soft breathing and Lila crawling closer to cling to my side.
"She called for you," Lucian said finally, his voice low.
I swallowed hard.
"She needs you here," he added, softer this time.
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
I just held my daughters, my tears slipping silently down my face.
Hours later, the doctor confirmed the fever had broken.
I stayed there with both girls until they fell asleep, my back aching but my heart refusing to let go.
When I finally looked up, Lucian was still there.
"You can rest here," he said quietly, as if the war between us hadn't happened.
I met his gaze.
"This doesn't fix what you did." My voice was a whisper, but it was steady.
His jaw tightened.
"This doesn't change that they're mine."
We stared at each other across the room, a silent battle neither of us was willing to lose and somewhere between us, two little girls slept peacefully, completely unaware that the world outside that nursery had just changed forever.