Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damian
The knife wound in my shoulder started throbbing hard once the anesthesia wore off. My entire left arm was nearly useless, dragging half my chest into numb, pulsing spasms.
But I'd already tuned out the pain. All my attention was on that operating room.
When I burst into that filthy alley and saw Scarface pinning Ivy down while she could only shield her belly with bleeding hands, one thought consumed me—kill them all.
If the ambulance sirens hadn't cut through the air, if Ivy hadn't gone pale and collapsed right there, I would've slit that animal's throat right in front of the cops.
"Mr. Wentworth, those two finished their statements at the precinct. Given their involvement in multiple violent robberies, the police are prepared to—" Charlie approached with an update.
I cut him off. "Get our legal team and every judicial contact we have in New York on this." I paused. "Charge them with assault, attempted sexual assault, and attempted murder. They don't need to see daylight again."
"Yes, sir."
Those goddamn animals had no business breathing.
The surgical light finally went dark. A doctor emerged, scanning the hallway. "Family?"
"Here." I was on my feet instantly.
"You got her here just in time." The doctor gave me a reassuring smile. "She must have protected her abdomen—lots of superficial injuries, but the baby's fine. Just needs a few days of observation."
"Is she awake?"
"Not yet. And she's experienced severe trauma, so watch her emotional state carefully. Someone should stay with her." He gestured toward the hall. "You can wait in her room now."
"Thank you." As he turned away, I slid down the wall, gasping for air.
Thank God. Thank God Ivy was okay. I couldn't imagine a life without her.
I needed to be near her. Just watching her breathe would be enough to keep me alive.
They wheeled Ivy into her room soon after. Seeing her ghostly pale face sent guilt and terror crashing through me again.
I'd had an important meeting in Manhattan yesterday. Should've driven back. But when the other party canceled, I'd turned around halfway.
I couldn't bear to think—what if I hadn't been in Brooklyn yesterday...
I reached out and wrapped her hand in mine. The room was filled with nothing but the steady beep of the heart monitor.
Ivy slept deeply, those beautiful eyes shut tight, dried tears still streaking her cheeks. I lifted my hand and gently wiped away the grime, pressing a kiss to her skin.
Even with days of high-pressure work and yesterday's fight pushing my body past its limits, I didn't dare close my eyes. The fear of losing Ivy forced me to stay conscious.
"Sir, routine check. Could you step aside?" As dawn broke, a nurse slipped in quietly, thermometer in hand.
"Of course." I stood, making room.
"Ivy Sinclair?" She double-checked the chart.
"Yes." My heart lurched. "Is something wrong?"
She glanced at Ivy, then at the blood-stained clothes I still wore, and hesitated before speaking.
"You must be the patient's husband... or the baby's father?"
"I am. Both."
The nurse sighed, her look mixing sympathy with reproach. "Then don't just show up for the emergencies. She needs you during the ordinary moments too."
"Ordinary moments?"
"Yes." She logged the temperature. "I remember her—we've chatted a few times. She makes excellent pastries. These past months, every checkup, she's been alone on those plastic chairs in the hallway. You know, pregnancy takes two people. Most women have someone with them."
I stood frozen. Checkups? Christ, I'd completely forgotten.
"No matter how busy you are, you need to be there for her now."
"She's... she's been coming here regularly? Every month?" The stupidity of my own question hit me as soon as I said it.
"Of course." The nurse stared at me, her disapproval intensifying. "Don't you know the basics? The doctor should've explained all this when you found out about the pregnancy."
My mouth opened, but nothing came out.
The words hit like a sledgehammer to the chest. When we found out about the pregnancy, what was I doing?
Meetings. Client dinners. Business trips with Cecilia...
And my Ivy—she'd endured morning sickness alone, sat in cold hospital corridors alone, watching other couples together. And I didn't even know how many times she'd been here.
Bitterness slid down my throat, twisting my gut.
A weak cough came from behind me. I spun toward the bed.
Ivy opened her eyes, confused, brow furrowed.
"Ivy! Are you in pain?" I rushed over so fast I nearly stumbled, my left arm screaming.
"I've got this." The nurse motioned me aside.
Ivy seemed to register the hospital room for the first time. Her face drained of color. "The baby... Damian..."
"Don't worry." The nurse checked her wounds, speaking softly. "Baby's fine. Though your husband got hurt and sat here all night. He needs looking after too."
She tucked the blanket around Ivy and smiled at me. "Maybe he knows he hasn't been around enough before. He tried hard this time. But you still need to pay more attention to your wife going forward."
"Absolutely. Thank you." I meant it. I'd said thank you more in the past day than in the past year.
"I'll leave you two alone."
Silence settled over the room again. I sat beside Ivy's bed, unable to look away from her.
"Last night, thank you." Ivy seemed uncomfortable under my gaze, turning her head slightly. "You should rest."
"Ivy, don't thank me. This is all my fault." I reached for her hand, but she pulled back just before I touched her.
I swallowed the bitterness. "Everything before—that was on me. But never again. I'll protect you, no matter what we are to each other. You don't need to feel any pressure—this is what I have to do."
Ivy shook her head instinctively, but catching my expression, she sighed and changed the subject.
"The nurse said you were hurt?"
"Just a scratch. Don't talk anymore. Rest." I stood to pour her water, hiding the smile tugging at my lips.
She cared. That realization dulled the pain in my shoulder.
"No. You need to get that wound treated and change clothes." She took a small sip, then frowned at my left shoulder.
I texted Charlie to bring clean clothes.
"Fine. Once my assistant gets here. Sleep now."
Ivy nodded, curling into the blanket and closing her eyes.
After her breathing evened out, I slipped out to buy breakfast. She'd need food when she woke.
First time I'd ever prepared breakfast for Ivy. These past two years, every morning there'd been a meal waiting—perfectly runny eggs, perfectly toasted bread. And I'd barely said thank you, just wolfed it down and left. All those mornings I'd taken for granted were built from her love.
I bought oatmeal and soft toast—doctor's orders, bland only. Charlie was waiting outside her room when I returned.
"Sir, your clothes."
"Thanks." I took them. "Head back to the office."
"Wait, sir. One more thing." I was about to enter when Charlie stopped me.
"The European acquisition has reached the final signing stage.
The London board insists you be there in person today...
If you don't sign, all the tax restructuring the legal team worked on falls apart.
The group stands to lose at least eighty million. "
Charlie's tone turned grave. "I know you've had a rough couple of days, so I've been pushing Legal hard, but... today's situation is urgent."
"Have Harvey sign." I didn't hesitate, my gaze drifting through the window to Ivy inside.
Harvey was Wentworth Group's VP. He handled things when I was away. I trusted him not to screw this up.
"But—"
"No buts." I cut him off, voice firm. "If this causes losses, I'll absorb them myself."
Charlie followed my gaze to Ivy, mouth open like he wanted to argue. Finally, he just nodded and left.
Eighty million dollars. Enough to trigger a Wall Street earthquake. But I didn't care.
What an idiot I'd been. Only now could I see what I actually wanted.
I went inside and arranged breakfast on the tray.
"Damian." Just as I finished arranging everything, Ivy spoke softly. Her eyes were unusually alert.
"I think you should go back to Manhattan. Eighty million isn't pocket change."
"You heard?" I carefully propped her up and slid the table over, placing the tray down.
Ivy seemed surprised by my actions. She hesitated. "I mean, you don't need to waste time here."
"Ivy, I used to think work was everything. But money never runs out." I set her utensils properly, meeting her eyes. "You know how terrified I was last night? When you collapsed in my arms, I felt like I was dying."
"So please, Ivy, don't send me away." I took a deep breath. "I love you."
Her eyes flew wide open. She looked away, flustered.
"Don't do this, Damian."
"I know. I'm sorry. But I mean it."
Ivy went quiet for a moment, then exhaled and started eating.
I didn't speak either, just watched her. Simply seeing her filled me with profound contentment. I wished this moment could last forever. Right then, I heard my heartbeat clearly—it was telling me I loved her.
"I'm full. Take the plate, please." After eating slowly, she tried to hand it to me.
"Let me." I stood quickly to take it. As my fingers reached out, my fingertips brushed against her cool hand.
Before, she would've jerked back like she'd been shocked.
This time, she didn't.
She just stiffened slightly, head down, letting my palm and her fingertips touch above the tray. For those few seconds, the world seemed to go silent around me.
"Ivy! Oh my God, Ivy, are you okay?" The door burst open. Ivy instantly pulled back, and I quickly grabbed the dishes.
I turned, annoyed. Perfect. Penny.
She rushed straight to the bed without even glancing at me. "Sweetie, I came by this morning and heard from the neighbors—why didn't you message me about something this serious!" Behind her stood a grim-faced Lucas. What was he doing here?
I glanced at him and stepped aside for Penny.
"I'm fine now. Baby's good too." Ivy patted her hand reassuringly. "I just woke up. Wanted to feel better before telling you, so you wouldn't worry."
"Besides, Damian's been here."
Penny turned. Her red, swollen eyes took in my disheveled state with an odd expression. She sniffed and huffed reluctantly. "Fine, Damian Wentworth. Since you saved Ivy—though that's your job—I'll allow you to stay and protect her from now on."
I smiled. This validation felt better than closing any deal.
"Don't worry. Want to chat with her? I'll handle the hospital bill."
I straightened and left them alone for girl talk.
After settling the bill, I walked to the vending machine at the end of the hall, about to scan for an iced coffee to clear my foggy head.
A hand reached past my shoulder and dropped a coin in the slot, pressing the button for black coffee.
A cold can tumbled into the dispenser.
I turned. Lucas. What did he want?
"Here." Lucas bent down, grabbed the coffee, and handed it to me.
I took it and forced a smile. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it. I should thank you for protecting Ivy."
"I'm her husband—either way, I'll protect her." I straightened defensively. My wife was mine to protect, not some outsider's job.
Lucas leaned against the wall, smiling at my tension. "Relax, no ulterior motives. Damian, truth is... I knew from the start Ivy didn't like me."
My grip on the can tightened. I said nothing.
"I'll admit I had unrealistic fantasies. But when I saw how she looked at you, I knew I never had a chance." He gazed into the distance.
"What?"
"She left you because she still loves you. That's all I'll say. She never looked at me that way."
She loves me? She still loves me?
My breathing quickened.
"Of course, what happens next depends on you. Honestly, those injuries look good on you." He patted my shoulder. "From now on, I'll see her as a sister. But I'll never let anyone hurt my sister—even if it's the man she loves."
"Understood." I processed this, the frustration and bitterness evaporating completely. Losing a rival felt better than any acquisition. I grinned at him genuinely. "Thanks for looking after her. I'll prove myself through actions."
"But if you break your word, don't forget—I have a hard punch too." He extended his hand, holding it in the air.
I looked down, feeling lighter than ever, and gripped his hand firmly.
"Don't worry. You won't get the chance."