Chapter 52 I’m His Father
Renee’s glare pierced through William, her eyes sharp with disbelief. The weight of his words hung in the air, thick with tension. Did he just tell her he hadn’t signed the divorce papers? Was he actually being serious?
“Mr. Mitchell, my son is in critical danger, and I’m really not in the mood for your games,” Renee snapped, her voice stern and unwavering. “Please, I’m asking you to leave.”
Esme bit her lip, a wave of guilt washing over her at the mention of the injured boy. She harbored a secret that could shatter their fragile calm–she was the one who had inadvertently caused the boy’s accident. Despite the turmoil, her heart clung to a thread of hope for the boy’s safety.
“Sylvia…” Holding Sylvia’s hand, Esme felt a fierce protectiveness, as though she were guarding her own daughter. “Don’t worry. Just go with them–they’ll sort this out. And if they even think about blaming you for something you didn’t do, Eric and I will make sure they regret it.”
Her eyes briefly met Renee’s, conveying a silent, stern warning.
Renee’s response was a cold, dismissive sneer. She pivoted on her heel, her steps
echoing with a resolute clack against the tiled floor. Yet, the sudden cascade of rapid footsteps halted her departure. Turning, her tension eased into a guarded anticipation,
and there he was–weather–beaten yet resolute.
William and the others caught the arrival too, their gazes drawn to a striking figure approaching. A tall, rugged man with a commanding military presence strode toward Renee, his sharp silhouette demanding attention.
Ryder closed the gap between them in just a few swift strides, his arms opening wide before he gently enveloped Renee in a protective embrace.
“It’s fine now. Don’t worry. I’m here for you,” he murmured in a soothing tone.
Renee, who had been a pillar of strength just moments before, now appeared as delicate as a fragile bunny, her tough exterior melting away within the safety of Ryder’s
arms.
Known amongst his soldiers as “Captain Grim Reaper” for his relentless sternness and commanding presence, Ryder was a man who rarely showed a softer side. His face, usually set in an unyielding mask, now softened remarkably in Renee’s presence. His words were tender, each one carefully chosen to avoid distressing her further.
“Felix will be fine, rest assured. I’ll ensure the best doctors in all of Tofral are on his case,” he assured her, his voice barely above a whisper.
Meanwhile, William’s gaze was dark and unreadable as he watched the two. A dangerous thought flickered in his mind. He wanted to break Ryder’s hands that were holding Renee–his Renee,
As the door to the emergency room swung open, a nurse burst out, her face etched with
urgency.
Ryder and Renee, their concerns momentarily united, hastened forward to gather news of Felix’s precarious condition.
Renee’s voice trembled as she inquired, “How is my son doing?”
The nurse’s eyes darted around, betraying her stress. “He’s in critical condition,” she admitted. “He’s lost a significant amount of blood, and there’s a complication. Felix has a O–negative blood type. We’re running dangerously low due to several surgeries yesterday, and though we’ve ordered more, it hasn’t arrived yet. Every second counts now.”
Renee paled, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. At that moment, Ryder stepped closer, his voice steady but forceful. “Take my blood. I’m O–negative, too.”
Relief flickered across the nurse’s face, but as she motioned for Ryder to follow, a sudden realization stopped her. “Wait, your relationship to the patient?” she inquired,
a note of caution in her tone.
“I’m his father,” Ryder declared, his chest swelling with a mix of pride and desperation.
The nurse’s expression shifted to one of regret. “Unfortunately, we can’t use direct family members‘ blood in this situation,” she explained, the flicker of hope fading from
her eyes. “With this many people around, surely someone has O–negative blood?” her eyes. “With this many people arc
O–negative wasn’t hard to come by, and with all the police officers present, someone
was bound to be a suitable donor.
Ryder cut in, firm and resolute. “No need for that. Use my blood.”
Before anyone could respond, another voice chimed in. William, a stern figure who had been standing back, stepped forward with authority.
“I’m O–negative,” he announced, his gaze locking with the nurse’s. “Don’t waste time. We can’t afford to let the boy suffer over technicalities.”
The nurse, caught in a moment of indecision, looked between the two men. Finally, determination settled on her features. “Alright, both of you, come with me. We need to act fast.”
