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His eyes bounce from me to Lila…and then his gaze sharpens as it lands on the ER doors. On the gurney that disappeared behind those doors a few minutes ago.

I watch as his expression changes.

“That girl…” he starts, and I know the minute he starts talking, it’s either I kick him out or knock him out again right here right now. “She’s Lila’s, isn’t she?” He pauses. “She’s mine.”

I don’t have to look behind to figure out that Lila has just stiffened behind me.

“Is this the reason why you are pushing me away, peaches? Because you didn’t want me to figure out she exists?” Julian growls. “You let me think you hated me when in reality you’ve been hiding our daughter away from—”

“She’s not yours,” Lila snaps, her voice cracking but firm.

She’s standing up now and my fucking nephew thinks that’s the right time to take a step forward, only for me to stop him in his tracks.

“You think you’re going to play daddy now?”

“Walk away, Julian,” I grit out, barely holding back the growl in my throat. “Before I finish what I started.”

He doesn’t walk away.

Six punches to his thick skull a few hours ago, and my nephew still hasn't gotten the message that Lila and now—Lina, will never be his.

“You think I’m going to just walk away? Did you see her? That kid looks like me. She’s fucking mine.”

That kid? He doesn’t even know her name. He doesn’t even care.

“Walk the fuck away.” My fists are clenched now.

“I’ll get a lawyer, Lila,” he says coldly. “I’ll do a paternity test. You think you can hide a child from her father? You think the courts won’t take my side once they find out while you’ve been fucking my uncle on the sidelines, our child has been neglected to the point that she fell sick? I’ll gain custody of her, mark my words, peaches.”

Chapter Seventeen

LILA WINTER

A few hours ago, my biggest worry was winding up in bed with Alaric.

Now?

Now it feels like the world is collapsing in on itself, and I’m standing dead center, gripping at straws while the earth threatens to swallow me whole.

Lina is in the hospital. Lina is not okay.

My baby, my whole fucking world, is lying in that bed, unconscious, tiny arms limp at her sides, her skin too pale, her breaths too shallow. And I can’t stop thinking…

If I had arrived just afew minutes later, would she still be breathing?

Would I have had the opportunity to bring her to the hospital?

I can't breathe.

Every single beat of my heart is laced with guilt.

Guilt that I didn’t know sooner.

Guilt that I wasn’t there fast enough.

Guilt that maybe, just maybe, I failed her.

And as if that isn’t enough to shred me alive, Julian’s venom still clings to the air like the proverbial sword of Damocles hanging above my head.