Page 105 of Ruthless Chaos

“I don’t see your name on the list, Miss Coldwell,” she says, giving me a polite smile. “Visiting hours aren’t for another thirty minutes. You’re welcome to wait in the waiting room.”

She gestures to the space behind me, filled with an unsightly horde of sick people.

I hold back a grimace and smile instead, reaching into my satchel.

“I don’t think I was clear,” I say in a soft voice, holding the nurse’s gaze. “My name isLadyCassidy Coldwell. This wing is named after my father, and my family’s donations keep the lights on here.” Her smile withers, and mine grows. “I would hate for you to lose your job over this. You seem like you need the money.”

I slide a wad of £50 notes across the desk.

Her eyes widen when she realizes just how much money I’ve placed in front of her. She probably doesn’t even have this much in her savings account, the poor thing.

“Now, are you sure about not seeing me on the list?” I ask.

She snatches up the money, clears her throat, then makes a show out of looking busy on the computer. After a few seconds of clicking away, she says, “My apologies, Lady Coldwell. Third floor, Room 316.”

I nod, then make my way to the elevator.

A maze of sterile hospital hallways lead to Room 316.

All the rooms on this floor are private, so I don’t have to deal with seeing any more sick people. The air stinks of disinfectant and medication, and the fluorescent lights are bright and unflattering.

A few of the nurses who walk past me do a double take. They probably recognize me, or at least think I look like I don’t belong here.

I flash them smiles to fuel their watercooler gossip.

I’m aware of how it looks, but I couldn’t control where his family had him admitted. If I had my way, he’d be in a Swiss hospital, not this one in London. I will need to wrap up this visit quickly if I’m to make it back in time for my Council Meeting.

When I get to the room, I smooth my pencil skirt and pick a hair off my tweed jacket before I open the door, just in case there’s anyone else inside.

I’m relieved to find he has no other visitors.

Liam lies in a huge, fluffy hospital bed, swaddled in thick blankets. He’s hooked up to a myriad of beeping machines, and has tubes coming from his nose and wrists. There are thick bandages wrapped around his head and the bridge of his nose. His skin is pale, his lips bloodshot.

I gag a little at the sight of him. I heard he was bad, but this is horrendous.

Nobody knows the real reason he disappeared from campus.

All I’ve been able to gather is that they found him within inches of his life during the party at Kingmaker House and had him airlifted out of the country. It was only after some phone calls, a few favors, and one hefty payment to the school’s chancellor that the name of this hospital came up.

I move one chair from the corner of the room to his bedside and take a seat.

It’s made from an uncomfortable, rickety plastic. I’ll have to ensure these get changed before my next visit. They need to put him in a better room.

“Liam?”

He stirs and cracks an eye open.

Fucking hell, even his eyes are swollen. They are still that shade of forest green, but the whites of his eyes are all pink.

It’s harrowing that this happened to himon campus.

Though it obviously hurts him, he smiles. “To what do I owe the pleasure, milady?” Even with his gravelly voice and disfigured face, he’s trying to be charming.

I roll my eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you did all this to avoid me.”

His body shakes as if he’s laughing, but all that comes out is a hiss.

“What the fuck happened, Liam?” I ask, lowering my voice to a whisper.