The private hospital room reeked of antiseptic and tension. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, one arm cradling his ribs, a dark bruise spreading across his jaw. The door burst open.
"Alex!" Darla Adams rushed in first, her heels clacking sharply on the tile. Her eyes brimmed with worry as she clasped his face, ignoring the cuts and swelling. "My poor boy, what did they do to you?"
Behind her, Derek Adams walked in with none of her concern… only cold fury in his stride.
"Good job, son," Derek said, his voice laced with disdain. "You've really outdone yourself this time."
Alex scoffed bitterly. "Nice to see you too, father."
"Don't play the victim," Derek snapped. "Because of your impulsive, idiotic stunt, Jean slipped through our fingers! She's married to Kingsley now. You ruined everything!"
Darla turned sharply to her husband. "Derek, stop it! He's in pain!"
