Lydia’s vision blurred from the pain, her whole body breaking out in cold sweat.
She could feel the blood gushing out of her.
Darkness started creeping in at the edges of her sight, her mind growing fuzzy fast.
Right before she lost consciousness, she thought she heard Henry yelling her name, panic thick in his voice.
That tone —it was like he was terrified of losing someone irreplaceable.
Someone irreplaceable?
To Henry, that would be her?
Lydia gave a faint, bitter smile.
Yeah right, as if that’s possible.
Then everything went black.
“Lydia?
Lydia?!
Wake up!
Come on, wake up!”
Henry had reacted the moment it happened, but it was already too late —she’d thrown herself into harm’s way.
He watched helplessly as that blade stabbed straight into her chest, and for the first time in his life, real fear hit him like a truck.
He kicked the attacker aside and grabbed Lydia tightly, his eyes red, calling her name over and over.
His voice shook, filled with panic and guilt he didn’t even know he could feel.
Chaos erupted around them.
Jeffery rushed over.
“Mr.
Lawson, the ambulance is—”
Before he could finish, Henry was already gone.
Looking up, Jeffery spotted him inside the ambulance, holding the unconscious Lydia in his arms.
At the hospital, Henry stood frozen outside the OR, watching as Lydia was taken away on a gurney.
“Lydia!” Michael burst in, breathless.
When he spotted Henry, his expression instantly darkened.
He stormed over, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the wall.
“Henry!
What the hell did you do to her?!
If you can’t protect her, then just let her go! Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
Stop dragging her through hell by your side!”
Henry looked up at him, his daze fading.
“Well, if it isn’t Dr.
Shaw,” he said.
He slowly pried Michael’s fingers off his collar, one by one, eyes dark and unreadable, his voice dripping with cold sarcasm.
“Lydia’s been my maid for ten years.
Whether she leaves or stays —that’s between her and the Lawsons.
It has absolutely nothing to do with you.
You’re just the doctor who ran into her once.
You don’t get to stand here acting like you matter.
Know your place.
Stop inserting yourself where you’re not wanted.
Or else…”
There was a sharp chill in Henry’s eyes, his possessiveness and threats laid bare without an ounce of concealment.
“Henry!” Michael’s voice trembled with rage, bloodshot eyes glaring, veins bulging at his temple.
“Where’s the family?
The patient’s family for Lydia?”
Suddenly, a nurse rushed out from the ER, urgency written all over her face.
“I am!” Henry and Michael spoke in unison.
The nurse looked between the two, confused.
“Which one is it?
You know what, never mind.
The patient’s artery was punctured—she’s bleeding out badly.
Her blood type is rare, and our supply is short.
One of you needs to—”
“Take mine,” Henry stepped forward, cutting her off.
“We have the same blood type.”
Michael clenched his fists, wanting to object—but at this moment, Lydia’s life came first.
He said nothing.
The nurse quickly drew the blood and disappeared back into the ER.
Henry, pale and unsteady, stumbled over and sank onto the bench outside the operating room.
Michael settled across from him, not saying a word.
The air between them was thick.
Henry drew in a shaky breath.
“Lydia, you don’t get to die.
Not without my say-so.”
What, you think dying would be enough to erase all the pain?
No.
I won’t let you go that easy.
You have to live.
Only then can I make you pay.
Keep you close.
Watch you atone every damn day.
I’ll never forgive what you did.
So, don’t even think about dying on me.
Time crawled, every second stretching longer than the last.
Henry grew restless, his face darkening.
“This is taking too damn long!” He shot to his feet, voice echoing in the hallway.
Ding—
The ER light went off.
Lydia was pushed out on a gurney, eyes closed, pale but breathing.
The doctor pulled off his mask and gave a small smile.
“She made it through, but she’s not out of the woods yet.
We’re at the most critical stage—you’ll need to watch over her closely.”
“Thank you,” Michael said, genuinely grateful.
Henry said nothing, but his chest loosened in a way he hadn’t expected.
That strange wave of relief made him twitch.
He yanked at his tie in frustration.
She’s alive.
Good.
Because only when she’s breathing, can I make her pay.
Keep her here.
Make her regret.
Over.
And over again.