Chapter 23 - Finally Taking A Stand

I barely noticed the car pulling away from the hospital entrance as Sylus disappeared into the night without a word. I watched him go. The sterile air inside the building felt suffocating. It was too quiet—too still.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It had barely been an hour since Alexander was wheeled into surgery, but it felt like days. Every tick of the second hand was a reminder of how long I'd been holding my breath. My hands clenched in my lap as I stared blankly at the floor, fighting off the worst thoughts creeping into my mind.

Just as I was beginning to sink deeper into my thoughts, the automatic doors at the front of the hospital slid open. I looked up, and my heart sank. Alexander's mother and sister rushed in, their panic obvious even from a distance. I could already feel the storm coming before they even reached me.

The moment their eyes locked onto me, I knew what was coming.

"Freya!" His mother's voice rang out echoing through the quiet of the waiting room. She stormed toward me, her face twisted in rage, and I barely had a second to react before her hand slapped across my cheek.

The sharp sting radiated through my skin, but I didn't flinch. I kept my eyes on her, swallowing the anger and hurt threatening to choke me.

"What have you done to my son?" she demanded, her voice thick with accusation. "What right do you even have to show your face here? And with that low-born, Sylus, of all people? Do you have no shame? After the embarrassment you put the Ashfords through?"

Before I could even get a word out, Meredith, Alexander's sister, stepped forward, her voice just as venomous as her mother's. "Don't even bother trying to defend yourself," she sneered. "Just keep that filthy mouth shut."

I clenched my fists, trying to force myself to remain calm, even though my hands were trembling. "I didn't—"

"You don't get to speak!" Meredith snapped, cutting me off. "You've done enough."

Before the situation could escalate further, a nurse appeared from behind the counter, her eyes wide with disapproval. "Ma'am, this is a hospital. You cannot cause a scene here, or you'll be asked to leave."

The nurse's warning forced a begrudging silence, and Alexander's mother and sister shot me one last glare as they took their seats. My cheek still burned from the slap, but at least the shouting had stopped. I sighed, trying to gather my thoughts again. I couldn't let them get to me—not now.

Minutes dragged by like hours. Eventually, the doors to the operating room swung open, and a doctor emerged, his face calm but serious. "Relatives of Alexander Ashford?"

We all jumped to our feet and crowded around him. "How is he?" Alexander's mother asked, her voice trembling with barely contained anxiety.

"The surgery went well," the doctor said. "We removed the bullet, and he's stable. It'll take time, but he's going to be fine."

A collective sigh of relief filled the room. , but it was short-lived. Alexander's mother's and Meredith's gaze flickered back to me, their relief quickly turning into disgust that I was still here.

Alexander's mother turned her attention back to the doctor. "Can we see him now?"

The doctor nodded, signaling for a nurse to guide us. The nurse appeared moments later, leading us through the sterile hallways toward Alexander's room. As we reached the door, Meredith suddenly stepped in front of me, her arm blocking my path.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked coldly.

"Meredith please. It hasn't been an easy day. I only want to see my husband," I replied, my voice sharper than I intended. "And no one—not you or anyone else—is going to stop me."

Meredith's eyes narrowed, her lips curling in disdain. "Husband?! You're so shameless. Didn't you ask for a divorce? You forgot he was your husband when you were frolicking about with Sylus didn't? What right do you think you have to claim that title now?"

I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. "Matters concerning I and my husband are none of your business. Or anyone else's."

For the first time, Meredith seemed caught off guard. Her mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came out. I didn't wait for her to recover—I pushed past her and entered the room.

Alexander was lying in the hospital bed, pale and bandaged, machines quietly beeping around him. His mother was already by his side, her hand hovering over his as if afraid to touch him too hard.

The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so far from the arrogant, confident man I knew—made my chest tighten.

Before I could move closer, the nurse entered to check his vitals, her presence breaking the tense silence. After a quick check, she turned to us, her expression professional but kind. "Visiting hours are almost over," she said, glancing between me and Alexander's mother. "Only one person can stay with the patient overnight."

"I'll stay," Alexander's mother announced quickly, her voice full of certainty. "He needs his mother."

I stepped forward, standing my ground. "Mother, you need to be more careful at your age. You should go home and rest. I'll handle things here."

Her eyes flashed with anger as she turned to me. "Who do you think you are?"

I didn't hesitate. "Like I told your daughter," I said evenly, "I am his wife."

She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. She stared at me for a long moment, her lips pressed into a thin line, and for once, she was silent.

The nurse stepped in, sensing the tension. "She's right, ma'am," she said gently, addressing Alexander's mother. "At your age, it would be best for you to rest. The hospital isn't the most comfortable place for an overnight stay. Let her take care of him tonight."

Alexander's mother glared at me one last time before she sighed, clearly unhappy but with no other choice. Begrudgingly, she nodded and gestured for Meredith to follow her.

As they left, I finally allowed myself to exhale. The moment they were gone, I felt the exhaustion wash over me.

I wasn't going anywhere. Not tonight.

After making sure Alexander was settled in and resting, I slipped out of the hospital room, my feet heavy with exhaustion.

I headed to the hospital's cafeteria, grabbing a quick bite that I barely tasted, and then picked up some spare clothes for both of us. My body ached, every muscle protesting with fatigue, but I couldn't sleep. Not after everything that had happened.

Back in the room, the soft beeping of the machines and the dim lighting felt almost suffocating. The silence gnawed at me, and I reached for the small TV remote, hoping for a distraction, anything to pull me out of my own spiraling thoughts.

But the second the screen flickered to life, my breath caught in my throat.

Breaking News: Alexander Ashford and Freya caught in kidnapping and shooting incident. Rescued by Sylus Thorn.

My heart pounded as the words scrolled across the screen, each one sending a jolt of cold fear through me. I leaned forward, the hum of the TV filling the room as more details unfolded. Finn and Henry—both dead. That much had been confirmed. But it wasn't the deaths that twisted my stomach in knots.

The news anchor's voice droned on, and the realization hit me like a punch to the gut. Finn and Henry hadn't been the masterminds behind the kidnapping. No, someone else had been pulling the strings all along. Someone still out there.

Someone waiting.