Chapter 47 Darian’s Fury
A glint of hope flickered in Ophelia's eyes. "It was Cecily, Darian. She called us last night, claiming you were with her and that you had fainted. Knowing how malicious Cecily can be, we feared she might harm you, so we rushed to check on you."
"We never expected to run into that mysterious man on the way. Darian, why were you at Cecily's last night? I'm really worried about you."
As she spoke, Ophelia fixed her gaze on Darian. Her tone was laden with innuendo, hoping he would explain what happened last night at Cecily's place.
After listening, Darian said nothing more, offered no explanations, and merely stated, "Understood. You'll be notified once we find the person who attacked you."
Ophelia's face fell once she heard his brief reply; she was filled with disappointment. She wanted to say more, but Darian was already on his feet.
"Where are you going, Darian?" Ophelia grabbed his arm anxiously. "Aunt Sandra and I are still injured. Won't you stay with us?"
"I have other matters to attend to."
Sandra, already seething, grew even more incensed. "What matters? Your mother is lying in a hospital bed, and you're leaving after just two minutes. What is so urgent?"
While listening to Sandra's irate tone, not a ripple disturbed Darian's steely gaze, which if anything, grew colder.
"I should be asking you two the same question. Rowan spent the entire night outside by himself, and now he's burning up with a fever. How did that happen?"
Darian's anger caused a flicker of unease in Ophelia. Guiltily, she glanced at Sandra.
With a calm sneer, Sandra said, "Darian, are you blaming us for not keeping an eye on him? He went crazy last night. He bit Ophelia and ran off. Instead of confronting him, you're questioning us? Is he somehow more important to you than..."
Her words were cut short by Darian's icy glare.
Sandra swallowed the harsh words she'd almost let slip and quickly changed tactics, huffing, "Is he more important than me?"
"Why did he run off on his own?" Darian questioned coldly.
"How would we know? He just bolted suddenly. If you don't believe us, go check the security footage." Sandra's righteous indignation was palpable.
Ophelia chimed in, "Darian, Rowan really did run off on his own last night. I worried about him being outside alone, so I tried to stop him, but Rowan was so upset; he even bit me."
As she spoke, Ophelia showed him her hand. She intentionally left it untreated; she was just waiting for Darian to see the shocking bite mark.
Ophelia was standing on solid ground since she wasn't lying. She even looked visibly distressed, her tears starting to fall again in big drops.
Darian gave her hand a brief glance.
Sure enough, there was a vivid bite mark on her fair skin. It was deep and, after a night, it had crusted over, but it still showed the torn flesh beneath.
Darian's expression softened slightly, and he said in passing, "Have a doctor look at that later."
Ophelia's heart leaped with joy at his concern, sensing his belief in her story. She nodded vigorously, "I was too panicked before to treat it; I'll have it taken care of later. Darian, I'm scared it will hurt. Could you stay with me?"
Ophelia brimmed with anticipation.
"I'm going to see Rowan."
Darian refused.
He was skeptical of what he’d been told. If Rowan hadn't encountered some trouble, he wouldn't have wandered off alone and ended up spending a night outside, only to succumb to a fever-induced faint.
Since he couldn't get any clear answers from them, Darian strode out of the room.
"Darian..." Ophelia took a couple of steps after him, "Can I come with you?"
"No need."
Hearing Darian's rejection, she hesitated to approach further.
"Ophelia, what are you waiting for? Follow him, so that kid doesn't spin stories." Sandra nudged Ophelia.
Ophelia snapped out of her stupor, quickly scooped the leftover soup back into the thermos, and hurried after Darian.
By now, Cecily had also arrived at the hospital. The Fitzgerald family typically stayed in VIP rooms when sick. Cecily didn't know the room number and couldn't get it from the nurses, so her only option was to search the VIP floor.
As the elevator doors opened, she stepped out, just in time to see Darian, with a cold air about him, marching toward a room.
Ophelia trailed behind him.
Cecily bit her lip and followed. They entered the room one after the other, greeted by two uniformed bodyguards at the door. Cecily couldn't get any closer, but with the room number now known, future visits would be easier.
When Darian entered the room, Rowan had already awakened, and he heard his raspy voice repeatedly begging for water.
Beside him, a servant sat on the couch with her legs crossed arrogantly; she was munching on an apple with a look of disgust. "Quiet down, brat. You're not some prince. If you want water, get it yourself."
This was the scene Darian walked into.
Darian's already dark mood instantly turned icy, filling the room with chilling tension. "Is this how you take care of the young master?"
Startled by Darian's entrance, the servant dropped her apple and stood up swiftly, bowing deeply and trembling, "S... Sir... what brings you here?"
"I’m here to see my son; do I need to report to you?" Darian's voice was so chilling it could have turned the air to ice.
The maid hastily shook her head, "Of course not, sir. I was just... peeling an apple for the young master..."
"Peeling an apple?" Darian's gaze fell on the apple with a single bite out of it as he picked up a paring knife.
Swallowing nervously, the maid stammered, "Yes... peeling...”
"Thud!”
The sound of the knife blade stabbing into the wooden tabletop cut her off.
"Ahh!”
Ophelia screamed.
In the blink of an eye, she witnessed Darian pushing the knife forcefully into the maid's hand on the table, pinning her to the table.
A few drops of blood splattered on Darian's face, and he frowned in disgust.
The maid's agonizing cries filled the ward, turning Ophelia’s face deathly pale.
It was the first time she had seen Darian take matters into his own hands.
After screaming, the maid fell to her knees begging for mercy, "Sir... I was wrong... I was wrong! I’ll never neglect my duties again. I’ll never speak ill of the young master. Please, spare me... Ahh...”
Darian stood indifferently, meticulously wiping the blood from his face with his handkerchief.
"All these years, I've been too lenient with you all. It's made you believe that I have no temper and that anyone could bully my son."
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