ated by Contract to the Alpha
<b>Chapter </b><b>48 </b>
Reba’s POV
:
64
The sleek ck Bentley glided to a stop in front of Silvercrest Medical Center. Raymond turned in his seat to face me, his expression concerned.
“Miss Brown, are you certain you don’t want me to apany you inside?” he asked, his deep voice gentle. “It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
I took a deep breath, my fingers nervously twisting the strap of my purse. The thought of exining Raymond’s presence to my parents made my stomach knot. They knew nothing about my arrangement with Dominic.
“Thank you, Raymond, but my parents don’t know about my current situation,” I exined, my voice tight with anxiety. “Seeing you would raise too many questions.”
Raymond nodded. “Of course. If you need anything at all, please contact me immediately.”
The hospital’s automatic doors parted with a soft whoosh. I squared my shoulders and walked into the pristine lobby, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Weeks had passed since I’d seen my parents. The
weight of all my secrets and lies pressed down on me, making each step forward feel heavier than thest.
I’d barely taken three steps when I spotted my mother. Her face crumpled with emotion, and before I could prepare myself, she rushed forward and enveloped me in a tight embrace.
“Ba<b>, </b>my child!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Thank God you’re here.”
The familiar scent of her flooded my senses. My chest tightened, and I swallowed hard against the lump forming in my throat. I hugged her back fiercely, suddenly aware of how thin she felt in my arms, how much the stress had
worn her down.
“Mom, I whispered, blinking rapidly to keep tears at bay. “I’m sorry I couldn’te sooner.”
She pulled back, holding me at arm’s length, her eyes red–rimmed and puffy from crying. “If you hadn’te, your father…” She broke off, her lips trembling.
I squeezed her hands, forcing confidence into my voice that I didn’t entirely feel. “Don’t worry, Mom. Everything’s going to be okay. The surgery fees have been arranged.”
My mother’s face crumpled with gratitude and what looked like shame. “You’re always so capable, Ba. We shouldn’t be burdening you with our problems.”
“It’s not a burden,” I said firmly, though my insides twisted with the knowledge of what my “capability” had actually cost me, “You’re my family.”
We made our way to the elevator, and as the doors closed around us, I straightened my spine and asked the question
12:06 Mon<b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>22 </b>
that had been burning inside me. “Where’s Jason? He should be here with you and Dad.”
My mother’s eyes darted away, her fingers fidgeting with the worn leather of her purse strap. “He… he said he <b>had </b>some urgent matters to attend to. He promised he’de.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, my jaw clenching so tight it hurt. Jason, my younger brother, had always been <b>unreliable</b>, but this was our father’s surgery. “He’s still so irresponsible,” I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
“He’s just… you know how young people are,” my mother defended weakly, her shoulders hunching slightly. “They
have their own lives and priorities.”
1
I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. I was only three years older than Jason, hardly in a different generation. Yet I’d always been the one to step up, to take responsibility, while he drifted through life expecting others to clean up his messes.
64
quiet corridor to my father’s room<b>. </b>
The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, and my mother led me down The sight of him lying in the hospital bed hit me like a physical blow. He looked smaller and more fragile than I
remembered, his face ashen against the white sheets, the monitors beside him beeping steadily.
I swallowed hard and approached the bed, taking his hand in mine. It felt cool and dry, the skin paper–thin over
prominent veins. “Dad,” <b>I </b>said softly, fighting to keep my voice steady.
His eyes fluttered open, and a weak smile spread across his face. “Ba,” he murmured. “My girl.”
“I’m here, Dad,” I assured him, blinking rapidly. “Everything’s going to be fine.”
He squeezed my hand feebly. “You look good. How have you been? Why did the wedding fall through with William? Your mother told me you two split up.”
My chest tightened at the mention of William, my breathing bing shallow. Even here, in this hospital room, I couldn’t escape him. “I caught him with another woman,” I said simply, my voice t. “We weren’t right for each
other, Dad.”
Anger shed in my father’s tired eyes, and he attempted to sit up straighter. “That bastard!” he eximed, before a fit of coughing overtook him. “When I get better, I’ll have a word with him myself.”
‘Dad, please,‘ I soothed, gently pressing him back against the pillows, rmed at how easily he yielded to my touch. ‘It’s over, I’ve moved on,”
My father grumbled something under his breath, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, he asked about my new job, and I fabricated a story about working as an assistant at Sterling Enterprises. My words came out rushed and stilted, and I kept my gaze fixed on the edge of the bed, afraid that looking into his eyes would somehow reveal my deception.
Our conversation was interrupted by the door swinging open. My brother Jason slouched in, his clothes rumpled and his hair disheveled. Dark circles shadowed his <b>eyes</b><b>, </b>and there was a nervous, furtive quality to his movements <b>that </b>
immediately set off warning bells in my head.
“Jason,” I said, my voice cooling several degrees as I rose from my chair. “Nice of you to finally show up.”
He avoided my gaze, shuffling towards the bed. “I got held up.”
64
“Dad is about to have surgery,” I hissed, leaning close enough that our parents couldn’t hear, my fingers digging into my palms. “What could possibly be more important than being here for him?”
Jason flinched at my tone, his shoulders hunching, but managed a strained smile for our father. “Hey, Dad. You’re looking good. The surgery will be a breeze, you’ll see.”
My father nodded weakly, seemingly content just to have both his children present. My mother hovered anxiously nearby, her eyes darting between Jason and me, her hands twisted together.
After a few minutes of strained small talk, Jason caught my eye and jerked his head toward the door. “Ba, can I talk to you for a second? Outside?”
I followed him into the corridor, my footsteps heavy with irritation. Once we were out of earshot of our parents‘ room, I rounded on him. “What is it, Jason? What was so important that you couldn’t be here when Dad needed
you?”
Jason ran a hand through his greasy hair, his gaze darting nervously up and down the corridor. “I’m in trouble, Ba,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Big trouble.”
Something in his tone made my anger falter, reced by a cold dread. “What kind of trouble?”
He licked his lips, speaking in a rush. “I owe some guys money. From gambling. A lot of money.”
My stomach dropped. “How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dors,” he confessed, his voice shaking.
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