Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ronan
"The data's on page three."
I flipped to page three. But my mind kept drifting back to Ryan—the way she'd stood up to Dustin at the charity gala, the look in her eyes when I'd draped my jacket over her shoulders, the gentle patience she showed Rose...
"Ahem." Declan cleared his throat. "Ronan. That's page eleven."
"First time in years I've seen you distracted at work."
I ignored him, flipped back to the right page, and pressed my fingers against my temples.
"What about Dustin?"
"Broke one of his legs. He shows his face again, he's dead."
"Keep someone on him. I want him gone for good."
"Already have someone."
"Send another."
Declan glanced at me over his glasses. "Fine." He made a note. "One more."
Marco's footsteps echoed down the hall. He pushed open the study door, his tone casual. "Boss, Miss Clark took Rose out."
"Security with them?"
"Two teams, front and back."
"If Rose shows any sign of distress, bring them back immediately."
"Got it."
I pulled out another file, forcing myself to focus. The calm lasted less than forty minutes.
My phone erupted with a shrill ring. I glanced at the screen—the security team leader. A wave of dread shot up my spine.
"Talk."
"Boss, Miss Clark's been in an accident—"
I was already on my feet. The chair slammed into the mahogany bookcase behind me. A bottle of whiskey tumbled from the top shelf and shattered on the carpet.
"Miss Clark's injured, head bleeding, unconscious. We brought her back to the manor. Family doctor's on his way."
"Rose?"
"Miss Rose is fine."
I hung up. I practically ran out of the study, Declan and Marco right behind me.
When I burst through the manor entrance, the faint smell of blood hit me.
Ryan lay on a makeshift sofa, thick white bandages wrapped around her head.
Her face was paper-white, eyes closed. Rose was curled on the carpet beside the sofa, trembling uncontrollably, clutching Luna.
My heart stopped.
I strode over, knelt down, carefully extracted Luna from Rose's arms, and pulled Rose into mine. She collapsed against me, and the sobs she'd been holding back finally tore free.
"What the hell happened?"
"Boss," Scott's Adam's apple bobbed hard. "Miss Clark and Miss Rose were at the intersection when Luna broke free from Miss Rose's arms and ran straight into traffic. Miss Rose panicked and chased after her without thinking—"
Cold sweat broke out across my back.
"Thank God Miss Clark reacted faster than us. She shoved Miss Rose back onto the sidewalk, but she herself..." Scott swallowed. "She grabbed the cat, but got clipped by an oncoming car. She hit the curb. Head first."
"The driver?"
"We have him. He wasn't drunk or high, but he was speeding and distracted. That's why he hit Miss Clark."
"Lock him up."
"Yes, sir."
Roy rushed in, his assistant wheeling equipment behind him. He lifted Ryan's eyelids, checked her pupil response, then started treating the wound on her forehead.
"Pulse is stable." Roy worked while he talked. "But we need to move her to the medical suite. This sofa's too soft—if her cervical spine is unstable, we'll have problems."
"Can she make it to the medical suite?" The suite was in the back wing, past the garden. The jostling could cause secondary trauma.
"Should be fine. The wound looks worse than it is. Not deep."
"Andrew."
"Ready, sir."
I nodded and started to hand Rose to Emily. But Rose grabbed my collar and wouldn't let go.
"Daddy, I want to stay with Ryan!"
"Sweetheart." I rubbed Rose's back. "Go upstairs with Emily, wash your face, change into clean clothes, then come back, okay?"
Rose held on. I sighed. I told Emily to bring toiletries, set Rose down, carefully lifted Ryan onto the gurney, and we all rushed to the medical suite.
Once there, Roy directed two nurses through a flurry of activity—a CT scan, a series of tests. Only after confirming no hidden complications did he wheel Ryan into the recovery room.
"Mild concussion." Roy removed his stethoscope. "No brain hemorrhage or fractures. All surface wounds."
"Then why isn't she awake?"
"Ronan, concussions are tricky. Mild ones, a few hours. Severe ones, days. Her vitals are stable. Don't worry. Let her rest."
I nodded and told Andrew to prepare nutritious food. Emily took Rose to wash up, leaving me alone with Ryan.
I pulled a chair to the bedside and sat.
Ryan's breathing was so faint I could barely hear it, her brow slightly furrowed, as if caught in a nightmare.
She'd always been so vibrant, so alive. I'd never seen her this lifeless.
I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, feeling her weak but steady pulse.
It was the only thing that eased the knot in my chest.
"Ronan, we've got answers." Declan pulled a paper from his jacket.
"The driver was startled when Miss Clark pushed Rose. He braked hard, swerved right. In other words, this was an accident. No outside interference."
"No. Keep digging."
"Why?" Declan looked confused. "Ronan, everyone knows Rose is your daughter. Hurting her to get to you? Honestly, no one's that stupid. They can't handle the Valerius family's wrath."
"If it's not aimed at me," I tapped the table, "then it's aimed at Ryan."
"That's absurd." Declan looked incredulous. "Ryan's just Rose's therapist."
"Find out who has a grudge against Ryan."
Declan rubbed his temples. "Fine. Give me time."
Looking at Ryan unconscious, the pain made it clear—this was never just lust or impulse.
No matter how I'd used Rose as an excuse, how I'd tried to mask my feelings, the jealousy that surged when I saw her with Nick had already given me the answer.
I gripped her hand and pressed it to my face.
For the first time in my life, I prayed—prayed she'd wake up soon.
Near dawn, Ryan's lashes fluttered. I thought I'd imagined it, but her brow furrowed too. I squeezed her hand.
"Ryan." Her finger twitched.
"Ryan, look at me."
Her eyes slowly opened, unfocused. Her lips moved. "...Rose."
My eyes burned. I never let it out. I never let that happen. But I was losing control.
"Rose is fine. Luna's fine. Everyone's fine."
The corner of her mouth pulled into a weak smile. "That's good."
"But you're not."
"I'm awake, aren't I?"
I couldn't hold back anymore. I kissed the back of her hand. "Thank you, Ryan."
She froze, face flushing, trying to pull away.
"Thank you for coming here." I held tight. "Thank you for coming into mine and Rose's lives."
The door practically exploded open. Rose stood there in a thin nightgown, slippers on the wrong feet, eyes red.
"Rose, Ryan's okay."
"No! Daddy, you lied! Waaah—"
"Baby, I really am okay." Ryan smiled.
Rose saw Ryan and tried to climb up.
"Oh, my God! Baby, careful!"
I quickly steadied Ryan and wheeled over a small bed, positioning it next to hers, then lifted Rose onto it. Rose immediately grabbed Ryan's pinky.
"Ryan, you can't leave me."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"Promise with your left hand!"
Ryan raised her left hand with Rose's. "I promise."