The car ride to the hospital was tense. The air was thick with unspoken words, but Heaven had no energy to argue. She sat in the backseat, cradling Michael in her arms, whispering soft reassurances to him. His body burned against hers, his tiny frame barely stirring.
Dylan sat beside her, his gaze fixed outside the window, his expression unreadable. Jayden drove in silence, his grip on the steering wheel tight.
Heaven wanted to scream, to curse Dylan for everything he had done. But right now, all that mattered was Michael.
When they arrived at the hospital, doctors and nurses immediately rushed over, recognizing Dylan Martin's presence.
"Private room. The best specialists," Dylan ordered coldly.
The hospital staff scrambled into action, carefully taking Michael from Heaven's arms and placing him on a stretcher.
"Ma'am, please stay here while we examine him," a nurse told her gently.
"No! I need to be with him!" Heaven protested, panic rising in her chest.
The nurse hesitated, glancing at Dylan.
Dylan stepped forward, his voice firm. "Let her stay."
The nurse nodded and led Heaven inside.
---
Inside the Hospital Room
Hours passed. Heaven sat beside Michael's bed, gripping his tiny hand. His fever had gone down slightly, but the doctor warned that he was still at risk. He needed proper care, rest, and stability—things she couldn't give him while trapped under Dylan's control.
She looked up and saw Dylan leaning against the wall, watching her silently.
"Why are you still here?" she asked, her voice filled with exhaustion.
Dylan shrugged. "I keep my promises."
Heaven let out a bitter laugh. "Promises? You kidnapped me. You murdered my parents. And now you want me to believe you care?"
Dylan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
She stood up, fists clenched. "If Michael dies because of you, I swear—"
"He won't."
His words were firm, absolute.
She stared at him, hatred burning in her eyes. "I don't trust you."
Dylan smirked slightly. "You don't have to. You already belong to me."
Heaven felt a shiver run down her spine.
Before she could reply, the doctor walked in.
"His fever has dropped, but he's still weak," the doctor explained. "He'll need to stay for a few days under observation."
Relief flooded Heaven's chest, and she sagged into the chair.
Dylan turned to the doctor. "Whatever he needs, make sure he gets it."
The doctor nodded and left.
Heaven watched Dylan suspiciously. "Why are you really doing this?"
Dylan walked up to her, leaning down until they were eye to eye.
"Because, kitten," he whispered, "I always take care of what's mine."
Her breath caught in her throat.
She hated him. She feared him. But most of all, she hated the way his words sent an unexplainable shiver through her body.
And she knew—this was only the beginning.