Chapter 36 Samantha
SAMANTHA
Three days since the confrontation, and I haven’t slept more than a few hours total.
The chair beside Kai’s bed in the medical wing has become my entire world, and I’ve memorized every beep of the heart monitor and every shallow breath he takes while Dr. Morrison checks his vitals and adjusts his medication.
My body aches from sitting in the same position for hours, and my eyes burn from crying and exhaustion, but I can’t leave because if I leave and something happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself.
This is my fault.
The thought circles endlessly through my mind, wearing grooves into my consciousness like water over stone.
The stress I caused with my lies, my revenge plan, and my betrayal contributed to this, and now Kai is lying here with tubes and wires keeping him alive because I brought chaos into their lives when they were trying to build something stable.
Grant and Donovan take turns sitting with me, bringing food I don’t eat and coffee I drink mechanically while they update me on Kai’s condition in quiet voices.
They don’t blame me out loud, but I see it in the way Donovan’s jaw tightens when he looks at the monitors and the way Grant’s hand lingers on Kai’s forehead like he’s checking for fever even though the machines tell him everything he needs to know.
They’re being kind to me, and somehow that makes the guilt worse.
On the third day, Kai finally opens his eyes.
I’m alone with him when it happens, Grant and Donovan having finally agreed to get a few hours of real sleep after Dr. Morrison assured them Kai’s condition was stabilizing.
The monitors have been showing steady improvement, and the medication seems to be working, but seeing his eyes actually focus on something feels like a miracle.
“Hey,” he says, his voice rough from disuse.
“Hey.” I lean forward and take his hand, careful not to disturb the IV. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.” He manages a weak smile. “How long was I out?”
“Three days. You collapsed in your room, and your dad and Donovan found you.” The words come out shaky because remembering that night makes my chest tighten. “They said if you’d been alone any longer, you would have died.”
“Dramatic.” But his smile fades when he sees my face. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
“I mean, you look exhausted. When’s the last time you slept?”
“I don’t know. What day is it?”
“Sam.” He squeezes my hand weakly. “You can’t sit here forever beating yourself up over something that’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault. The stress I caused with everything—”
“Stop.” He cuts me off with more force than I’d expect from someone who nearly died.
“I’ve had this condition for over a year.
I’ve been hiding it and refusing treatment because I’m a stubborn idiot who thought I could handle it alone.
This was always going to happen eventually, and it has nothing to do with you. ”
“But the timing—”
“The timing is just timing. If anything, maybe this is good because now everyone knows, and I can actually get proper treatment instead of taking pills under a fake name like some kind of drug addict.” He shifts slightly in the bed and winces.
“Besides, you want to talk about stress? Try watching my father fighting with Logan, or dealing with Donovan when he’s in one of his moods. That’s stress.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“A little.”
“Good. Because I need you to stop looking at me like I’m about to die. The sad face is depressing.”
He pauses, studying my expression. “Sam, you should know—you’re a terrible spy.
” He says it with such genuine amusement that I actually laugh despite the tears streaming down my face.
“Like, genuinely awful at this. You were supposed to destroy us, and instead you’re sitting here crying because I had a heart attack and blaming yourself for everything that’s ever gone wrong in the history of the world. ”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You’re worse. You couldn’t even take the abortion pills. You just hid them in a drawer and hoped the problem would solve itself.” He shakes his head slowly. “If Robert wanted a competent operative, he chose the wrong person.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny. In a tragic, completely fucked up kind of way.
” He squeezes my hand again. “Listen to me. What happened with Robert and your mother and all of that, that’s not your fault.
He manipulated you when you were grieving and vulnerable, and he used your pain as a weapon.
But you figured it out, and you chose us over him. That’s what matters.”
“I still lied to you for months.”
“Yeah, and we punished you for that. Extensively, remember?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are we done now? Can we move forward?”
“I don’t know if it’s that simple.”
“It is that simple. You trust us to handle Robert, and we trust you to never lie to us again. That’s the deal.” His expression grows more serious. “Can you do that? Can you trust us?”
“Yes.” The answer comes without hesitation. “I trust you.”
“Good. Because whatever my dad and Donovan are planning for Robert, it’s not going to be pretty. And you need to be okay with that.”
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Grant walks in with Donovan behind him. They both stop when they see Kai awake, and something like relief crosses Grant’s face before his expression smooths into calm control.
“You’re awake.” Grant moves to the other side of the bed, his hand immediately going to check Kai’s pulse even though the monitors are right there. “How do you feel?”
“Like I should have told you about my heart condition six months ago.” Kai’s voice is dry. “Before you say it, yes, I’m an idiot, and yes, I’m sorry.”
“We’ll discuss that later.” Grant’s tone makes it clear that the discussion will not be pleasant. “Right now, we need to talk about Robert.”
My stomach drops. “What about him?”
Grant looks at me directly. “He’s been texting you asking for the information he demanded. We need to respond, but it has to come from your phone to maintain the illusion that you’re still cooperating.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you have the offshore account information he wanted, and you need to meet in person to hand it over safely.” Grant’s expression is cold in a way that makes me shiver. “We’re going to lure him here and end this permanently.”
“Here? To the estate?”
“Where else? He thinks he has leverage over you. He thinks you’re trapped and desperate and willing to betray us to save yourself.” Donovan’s voice is flat. “He’s wrong, and he’s about to learn exactly how wrong.”
“When?” My voice comes out smaller than I intended.
“Tomorrow. We need to move quickly before he realizes you’re not responding on your own.
” Grant pulls out my phone, which they’ve apparently been monitoring.
“You’re going to tell him you have what he needs, but you’re scared to meet at the main resort again.
You’ll suggest somewhere more private. Somewhere on the estate. ”
“And then what happens?”
“Then we handle it.” Grant’s tone makes it clear that “handle it” means something final and irreversible. “But we need you to make that call. He won’t believe it coming from anyone else.”
I look at Kai, who nods slightly. “Trust them,” he says quietly. “Let them protect you.”
I take the phone from Grant with shaking hands. “What exactly do I say?”
Grant and Donovan spend the next twenty minutes coaching me through the message, crafting something that sounds desperate and genuine without being obvious. When we’re satisfied, I hit send and watch the message disappear into the digital void.
Robert responds within minutes. Tomorrow at 2 PM. Send me the location.
“He took the bait,” Donovan says, reading over my shoulder.
“Of course he did.” Grant pockets my phone. “He’s greedy and overconfident. He thinks he’s already won.”
“What’s going to happen to him?” I ask, not sure I want the answer.
Grant looks at me with eyes that have gone completely cold. “Justice.”