Chapter 56 Worry for Rowan
Darian's brows knitted together at that name, it wasn't unfamiliar. Blaise was known for his capricious nature, his moods as unpredictable as a storm, capable of laughing with you one moment and going for your throat the next.
He led a vast network of hitmen, and no one knew the true extent of his power, a dangerous enigma.
Darian had heard of him but had never met him.
Nor did he imagine that Cecily could be connected to someone like that.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive!" Hayden nodded with conviction. "So, Mr. Darian, everything related to Cecily is under his protection. It’s not that I don’t want to dig deeper, I'm hitting a brick wall here."
Being in Dorde, Darian understood the challenges.
Back home, he wouldn't need anyone else's help. Regardless of who was involved, he could get the information he needed in minutes.
Rising from his seat, Darian approached the floor-to-ceiling windows, his deep, icy gaze narrowing.
Ophelia had been mysteriously attacked on her way to Cecily's home, and today at the hospital Cecily had been forcefully taken.
Could that arrogant man be Cecily's boyfriend?
Blaise!
With a loud "bang!"
Darian's hand tightened around the glass in his grip until it shattered, the shards slicing through his palm and mingling with the crimson blood and spilled liquor in a slow, sinister drip.
Well, then.
So that's how it was.
Cecily had some nerve, poking the bear like that. Didn't she fear that one day she'd push him over the edge and end up six feet under?
That was a death wish if he'd ever seen one.
"Mr. Darian," Hayden stood up, a frown creasing his forehead as he regarded Darian's battered hand, "Are you quite intent on losing that hand? I've called Declan over here."
...
Before long, Declan arrived, his medical kit in tow, only to roll his eyes at Hayden as soon as he caught sight of Darian's expression.
He'd been set up.
Darian was fuming, and yet he'd been summoned here. Weren't there other family doctors in the mansion who could fix up a hand?
When he'd picked up the phone, he thought Darian had taken ill again. He hadn't even finished getting dressed before rushing over, expecting an emergency, only to find a wounded hand.
He was a psychiatrist! Declan screamed internally.
Did it take a psychiatrist to bandage a wound?
When it came to sharing in the misfortunes, damn it, they did stick together.
Declan shivered, then turned his attention to Darian's injuries. The cuts and bruises on his hand, the bite on his lip, and the knife wound on his neck.
This...
Declan couldn't help but frown himself. "Mr. Darian, have you been brawling?"
Darian's eyes seethed with anger as he continued to drown himself in drink.
Hayden let out a laugh, the kind that just begged for a punch. "More like a battle in the sheets."
Declan arched an eyebrow, leaning in with a look of intrigue, "With whom?"
"Take a guess."
"It can't be Ophelia, she's too delicate, doesn't seem like she could have roughed you up like this."
Hayden snickered. "Must be Cecily..."
"Shut it."
Darian tipped his head back and drained his glass.
"If I hear her name from either of you again, you can both get the hell out."
Hayden and Declan promptly clamped their mouths shut.
After tending to Darian's wound, Declan breathed a sigh of relief. "Mr. Fitzgerald, you're all set. Keep it dry and try not to strain this hand for a while."
"Mm," grunted Darian quietly.
Declan snatched the glass from Darian's hand. "Enough with the booze, Mr. Fitzgerald. You had it coming, treating your girl like that. Feels bad, doesn't it?"
"Which eye of yours saw me feeling bad about her?" Darian retorted.
Declan just tugged at his lip, barely hiding a smirk. The guy wouldn't even admit it.
"Cough... Drinking alone is no fun. How about we hit the town?" Hayden broke the uncomfortable silence with haste.
At that moment, Ophelia gently tapped on the door, standing there nervously with a steaming bowl of noodles in her hands.
Hayden glanced over in her direction and cracked a nonchalant smile. "Well, Ms. Flores, what brings you here?"
"Darian probably hasn't had dinner yet. Drinking on an empty stomach isn't good. I made him some noodles."
Ophelia's eyes were red from crying, and her voice quivered slightly. Dressed in a pristine white dress, her hair elegantly styled in an updo, she looked pitiful, it was hard not to feel compassion.
She carefully placed the bowl in front of Darian, her hands unintentionally splayed, revealing the reddened palms.
Darian's gaze caught sight of it, his eyebrows lifted subtly, yet he said nothing.
Without bringing up the evening's events, Ophelia cast a complex look at Darian and quietly turned to leave.
An odd atmosphere lingered as Hayden and Declan exchanged glances. Hayden leaned toward Darian and asked, "So, Mr. Fitzgerald, are we still heading out?"
Darian gave him a pointed look and stood up.
Hayden and Declan followed suit, practically tripping over themselves to keep up.
...
In the VIP suite of the exclusive club, Hayden had invited a whole crew to party. Darian sat in the central seat, his chilly demeanor a deterrent that kept everyone at bay.
Hayden had called a couple of bombshells to keep Darian company, but Darian ended up scaring them away to the farthest corner of the VIP lounge.
Both Hayden and Declan cursed their luck. They had hoped to cheer Darian up, but if anything, his mood seemed to have soured even more.
"Maybe we should get Cecily over here," Declan suggested, glancing at the man who seemed to be chilling the entire room with his presence. He quickly pulled Hayden aside.
Hayden stroked his chin, uncertain, "You think that will work?"
"Wasn't Mr. Darian already ticked off by her? Maybe he wants to see Cecily right now."
"You call her."
"No, you call her," Declan insisted, thrusting the phone into Hayden's hands.
Taking a deep breath, Hayden stared at Cecily's contact like it was a fifty-billion-dollar deal. Finally, he dialed the number.
At two in the morning, Cecily was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, when her phone started blowing up with calls from an unknown number.
Hang up, redial. Hang up, redial. Block the number, switch phones, and call again. The caller was relentless, and determined to get through to her.
"Who is it? Who doesn’t sleep at this ungodly hour?" she answered irritably.
"Hey~"
"Hey, my foot," she snapped.
There was a pause. No wonder they are a couple, both with fiery tempers, Hayden thought, slightly intimidated, "...Mrs. Fitzgerald, it's me, Hayden."
Cecily frowned slightly, "Hayden?"
She knew of him, Darian's close friend, one of the scions from the prestigious Silver Frost Capital families, and a well-known playboy.
"What do you want?"
"Are you and Mr. Darian having a spat?"
"What's the reason for your call?"
Cecily didn't wish to discuss anything related to Darian with him.
"Well, Mr. Darian's drunk at the club, keeps calling out your name. It's kinda pitiful. Could you come to see him?"
Darian again.
Cecily was so furious she could swallow him whole.
Their son was lying in the hospital in the middle of the night, and here he was out drinking. Sure, he never cared for her child. Why would he act like a responsible father?
Cecily had never been more determined to win back the heart of Rowan.
"He drank too much, huh? Let me know when he drinks himself to death, I'll come to pick up his cold, stiff body."
Cecily's ranting caught Hayden off guard and by the time he regained his senses, she had already hung up.
"Damn, she hung up. Her temper, it's like she's a match made in heaven with Mr. Darian," he muttered.
...
The next day dawned just like any other. Cecily got Griffin up and ready for school, maintaining their daily routine.
"Mommy, did you have a rough night?" Griffin asked, noting the exhaustion etched across Cecily's face. It was clear she hadn't slept well.
Cecily tossed and turned last night, unable to find sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, Darian's face would loom larger before her, driving her nearly mad.
"Yeah, mommy couldn't sleep last night," Cecily confessed.
"Is it because of Darian?" Griffin asked with big, innocent eyes. "Did he hurt you again? I'm gonna set him straight."
"No, he didn't hurt me, Griffin. This is grown-up stuff. You need to focus on school, and let Mommy handle the rest."
"Hmph." Griffin pouted. "Got it, Mommy. You've said that so many times I'm getting calluses on my ears."
With a gentle touch to his head, Cecily smiled at Griffin but couldn't help thinking about Rowan in the hospital. How was the little guy doing today?
Thinking about Rowan sparked a pang of heartache and a wave of guilt in her. After dropping Griffin off at school, Cecily picked up some groceries, made a pot of soup, and poured it into a thermos to take to the hospital.
Hayden had told her last night that Darian had been drinking heavily, so he most likely wouldn't visit the hospital that morning. This gave Cecily the chance to check on Rowan without disturbances.
Cecily arrived at the hospital quickly and approached the Fitzgerald family's private room, only to be stopped by a familiar guard. "Miss Cecily, what brings you here today?" the bodyguard asked.
Since Cecily had visited a few times before, the Fitzgerald guards recognized her instantly.
Calmly, Cecily replied, "I heard the young master wasn't feeling well, so I brought some homemade soup for him. Could I possibly see him?"
As she spoke, Cecily glanced into the room, taking in the vast emptiness. The poor little guy lay there, solitary on the large hospital bed.
Her heart twisted at the sight of such a young child ill and alone.
Exchanging uncertain looks, the two bodyguards hesitated. Although Darian hadn't specifically forbidden visitors for Rowan, they dared not simply admit someone without permission. They couldn't risk any issues on their watch.
"I'm sorry, Miss Cecily, but without Mr. Fitzgerald's permission, we can't let you in."
Cecily had anticipated this might not be easy. A glimmer of disappointment flickered in her clear eyes. "Has the fever broken yet today?"
"The young master's sickness this time is rather serious, and the fever keeps coming back."
Her heart ached more. "This is the soup I've made. Could you give it to the young master on my behalf?"
"Well..."
"This soup is chicken noodle soup, known for providing comfort and support during illness, helping to alleviate discomfort and promote recovery. It should aid the young master's recovery. You all are here to see, that I'm surely not foolish enough to harm the young master. If it's too much trouble, just leave it inside for him. Whether he drinks it or not should be up to the young master."
Cecily's eyes brimmed with sincerity, doing something so seemingly insignificant was all she felt she could offer the little guy.
Finally, the bodyguard nodded, "Alright."
"Thank you," Cecily said, handing over the insulated container. The bodyguard placed it on the table beside the little guy's bed and stepped out.
From a distance, Cecily watched the little one, who hadn't awoken, as there was no stir at the bodyguard's entrance.
Unable to linger, Cecily left, though it pained her to go.
Soon after Cecily's departure, Ophelia swiftly made her way to Rowan's room.
Eager to redeem her former image in the eyes of Darian, Ophelia knew that showering affection on Rowan was the best strategy.
As Ophelia sat by Rowan's hospital bed, she noticed a thermos on the nearby table. Picking it up, she quickly realized it wasn't the type the Fitzgerald family normally used. She called the bodyguards in.
"Who brought this soup?" she asked.
"Miss Cecily," the guard replied with honesty.
"Cecily!" Ophelia's voice rose sharply, venom in her stare that startled both bodyguards.
Ah, how cunning, Cecily, seducing Darian last night and now playing the doting visitor to his child, pretending she has no ulterior motives.
Ophelia was about to toss the soup into the trash when a thought struck her. She paused, raising an eyebrow. Since it was already here, there was no point in wasting it. She retracted her hand and turned to the guards, "You haven't seen Cecily today, and this soup? It wasn't brought by her."
"Huh?" The guards were puzzled.
"Darian doesn't want strangers near Rowan. You know that. Aren't you afraid of being reprimanded by Darian if he finds out you let someone else bring in the soup?"
The two guards exchanged glances.
"It's fine. I'll keep it a secret for you, just don't do it again."
Relieved by Ophelia's assurance, the guards exhaled, "Thank you, Ms. Ophelia."
"It's nothing, now leave," she gestured dismissively and flashed a cold smile at Rowan lying in the bed.
Standing up, Ophelia grabbed a cup of hot water she had just boiled. Clenching her teeth, she deliberately poured it over her fingers.
The sharp pain made Ophelia gasp.
Looking at her scorched fingers, she bit down hard.
Ophelia had barely been in the room for an hour when Darian arrived. His expression darkened at the sight of Ophelia in the room, "Didn't I tell you to limit your visits?"
Ophelia bit her lip, "Darian, I was out of line yesterday, being an absolute drama queen. Look, I made soup for Rowan today. Learned it from the housekeeper at home. It's my first time making soup, hope it tastes okay.”
Mid-sentence, Rowan’s eyes fluttered open.
A gleam of joy appeared in Ophelia’s eyes, "Rowan, you're awake! Do you feel alright, or should I call the doctor for you?"
Rowan didn't even acknowledge her and called out to Darian, "Daddy, why is she here again?”
Ophelia clenched her molars tightly, her face a mix of guilt and apology as she stepped forward, "Rowan, I was inconsiderate yesterday. I made you a fresh batch of soup today. Give it a try."
Ophelia cautiously poured the steaming soup into a bowl, its rich aroma filling the air. Bringing it over to Rowan's bedside, she coaxed patiently, "Come on, Rowan, take a sip. Auntie spent a long time on it."
Rowan remained resistant, his face unyielding. Ophelia fought to suppress her feelings of distaste and turned helplessly to Darian, "Darian, Rowan just woke up, he can't skip a meal. If he doesn’t like me feeding him, maybe you could try?"
Ophelia extended the bowl toward Darian. He hesitated, but his expression softened a bit as his eyes caught sight of Ophelia's fingers, blistered from the heat.
Noticing this, Ophelia quickly withdrew her hand, awkwardly hiding it behind her back.
Darian glanced at the soup he was now holding. It was evident that someone had put effort into it.
Sitting by Rowan's bedside, he said, "Have some, it will help with your recovery. You don't want to stay in this hospital forever, do you?"
Rowan still seemed reluctant, but Darian had already scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his lips.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
