Page 14 of Morally Black Betrothal

“Two arteries were substantially blocked,” Dr. Jenkins clarified as if he hadn’t just been insulted. “We had no choice but to rush him into surgery immediately, where I conducted a double bypass surgery and repaired the damage in his aorta. There was, however, significant trauma to the surroundingtissue, and while it’s likely he will need future surgery, there’s nothing more we can do right now.”

“What does that mean?” Violeta asked. “‘Nothing more we can do’?”

“Mom, calm down.” Shea set a hand on her mother’s shoulder like she was soothing a small child.

“It means we wait,” said the doctor. “That’s it.”

“And are you the best doctor in this hospital?” Owen demanded.

I shook my head. “Jesus, Owen.”

“Like you wouldn’t have asked.” He crossed his arms in that way of his that was more threatening than needed and stared the doctor down. “Well. Are you?”

“Maybe we need a second opinion.” Shea’s statement was almost a question as she looked to me, then back to the doctor. “Why hasn’t Daddy woken up? Shouldn’t he be up and talking by now?”

Dr. Jenkins took a deep breath, drawing up as tall as he could make himself. It wasn’t much. He couldn’t have been taller than five-foot-six. Even Shea had him by a good two inches in bare feet.

I almost felt sorry for the guy. Until I remembered thathechose this career, andhewas the one who had cut into my father’s chest without telling a goddamn person in this room.

Yeah, he could receive the third degree and then some.

“I’m the preeminent cardiac surgeon on the East Coast,” he replied, with more than a little bristle. “I’ve personally performed this exact surgery more than three hundred times, and similar procedures countless times more. Bypass surgeries across the U.S. have a more than ninety-eight percent success rate, so I see no reason for Mr. Black not to make a full recovery. That said, recuperating from open-heart surgery is never easy,and your father will have to make extensive lifestyle changes to prevent this from happening again.”

“Lifestyle changes?” Ronan repeated. “What, like attend a Pride parade and get a nose ring?”

“Ronan, shut up,” I ordered.

To my surprise, he did. For a few minutes anyway.

“You do know who he is, right?” Owen growled from his perch at the window.

“Here we go,” Liam muttered.

Dr. Jenkins looked a bit peeved with all of us. “I’m aware of Mr. Black’s identity. Your father has received the best treatment available, and I will continue to watch over him while he is in our care.”

Owen looked unconvinced but stayed silent. Despite my display at the nurses’ station, most of the time, I was the only member of this family who didn’t throw around our name to get special treatment. And this wasn’t reservations at the newest Michelin-starred restaurant in Manhattan or courtside seats for the Celtics. This was a goddamn hospital, and Owen’s question made us look like assholes to the man responsible for our father.

Not that I cared if people thought I was an asshole, but there was a time and place. Owen had never learned that kind of finesse.

“Why isn’t he awake yet?” I was striving for calm but ended up sounding shrill. “They said he’s been out of surgery for four hours, but he’s still just lying there. Is he in a coma? What’s going on?”

“It can take time,” the doctor replied. “This is a bit unusual but not unheard of, especially for a patient of his age.”

For a half second, Simone’s face flashed through my mind. The pure, unadulterated concern in those sky-blue eyes as she took my hand and assured me that everything would be allright. Somehow, that memory calmed me more than the doctor’s assurance.

Why? I had no goddamn clue. But even though I very much needed to finish this conversation, I was glancing toward the door again, dying to find out.

“What can we do now?” I continued. “How can we…support…you?”

Even I cringed. My family looked at me like I had just sprouted another head. I was known for a lot of things. Empathy was not one of them.

Until today, apparently.

“How long until he goes back to work?” Owen followed up. “Will we need to find a replacement?”

“That’s right,” Ronan chimed in. “How long until Brenny here gets the crown?”

Shea, Liam, and Violeta all turned their gazes to me.