Xavier’s jaw clenched. His voice dropped into a deadly tone. "If you don’t start treating him right now, I swear to God, you won’t have a job to wake up to. And God so help me, if anything happens to my brother, every single person in this hospital will pay for it with their lives—including you."
Xavier didn’t care if there were CCTV cameras recording his threat. They coulde to himter for questioning if they wanted.
The doctor paled at the threat, spine straightening with fear. He gave a quick nod. The nurse pushed Xander into the emergency room, and Xavier followed close behind.
"Stop crying... you look old," Xander tried to joke even in his condition, but coughed up blood the next second.
Samantha tried to go in with him, but the nurse stopped her. She fought, resisted, until Anastasia pulled her back.
"They’ll take care of him," she said softly. "Xander’s strong—nothing’s going to happen to him."
Not even in her worst nightmare did she imagine she’d be the oneforting Samantha.
The rest of the family arrived. Mrs. Wace sobbed uncontrobly while the rk couple tried tofort her.
Xavier stood in front of the operating room, watching the green light blink steadily—indicating the surgery had begun. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the hospital into the cool evening air. But it didn’t bring the relief he was hoping for.
He heard footsteps behind him and didn’t need to look to know who it was.
"I wish he was still alive so I could kill him over and over again. And maybe hunt his soul to hell and make sure he doesn’t get out," Xavier muttered.
Anastasia ced a hand gently on his shoulder but said nothing.
"He was my father." The words were hollow. No venom, no emotion—just a tired truth. "And he didn’t even hesitate. Pulled the trigger like it meant nothing, to shoot <i>me</i>. Now Xander’s the one paying the price. He was supposed to be the only one to die today... not Xander."
"Xander is not dead," Anastasia said softly, turning him to face her. Her heart clenched at the sight of his tears. "He’s going to be alright."
"He coughed up blood," Xavier said hoarsely. "I know he’s not perfect. He’s messed up—so many times—but... why can’t I stop wishing that nothing had happened to him? He kept calling me... trying to patch things up. Golf. Chess. Drinks at the bar. I ignored every attempt. But now... now I want him to survive. Just so we can do those things even though I have to endure hisme jokes."
Anastasia couldn’t hold back anymore. She threw her arms around Xavier and held him tightly. He clung to her like a lifeline, burying his face in her shoulder.
"I don’t want him to die," he whispered. "I just want him to survive this."
After a long moment, Anastasia pulled back and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks.
She’d thought the same thing before—that Xander deserved every bit of the pain he was in. But if he died, Xavier would carry that guilt forever. She couldn’t let that happen.
"Xander’s tougher than you think," she said. "When he was still hiding me in one of his hideouts, he came back once with a bullet in his leg. I can’t even count how many times he’s been shot there. He always made it. A chest wound? That’s just another scar in the making."
She gave him a small smile. "You’re his brother. You’re allowed to be mad, but you also love him. No matter what he’s done, he’s still your elder brother. He’s going toe out of that room, y golf with you, challenge you to tennis, and drag you to a bar you’ll hate. But you have to stay strong. And honestly, he’s right—you do look old when you cry."
Xavier let out a shortugh, a smile cracking through his pain.
Anastasia grinned too. She cupped his face, leaned in, and kissed him softly.
"I doubt he would want to leave when he’s not sure that we’d forgiven him," she added. Xander had not been the best, but he was just human like everyone else who made mistakes.
"Let’s go back inside," she whispered.
Hand in hand, they returned to the hospital, Xavier feeling just a little stronger than he had five minutes ago.