Page 49 of Forbidden Daddy
"Cassie!" I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands hovering over her trembling form. In my world, I’d seen men take bullets without making a sound. But the broken whimper that escaped her throat was the most terrifying thing I’d ever heard.
"Something’s wrong," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "Roman, something’s really wrong."
Panic seized me—pure, undiluted terror that had nothing to do with bullets or betrayal and everything to do with the woman curled in agony at my feet. This wasn’t a world I could control with violence or intimidation. This was helplessness in its rawest form.
I scooped her into my arms, feeling how small she was, how fragile. Her head fell back against my shoulder, and I could see the pain etched across her features even as she tried to stay conscious.
"Connor!" I roared, my voice echoing through the estate. "Get the cars ready! Now!"
Footsteps thundered through the hallways as my security detail mobilized. I carried Cassie down the marble staircase, her fingers clutching weakly at my shirt. Every step felt like an eternity.
"Stay with me, sweetheart," I murmured against her hair, trying to keep my voice steady when everything inside me was screaming. "I’ve got you. You’re going to be fine."
But I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything except that the woman who’d somehow become essential to my survival was slipping away from me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
Connor had three SUVs waiting in the circular drive, engines running, my best men already in position. I slid into the middle vehicle with Cassie still in my arms, Tommy jumping into the passenger seat while Connor took the wheel.
"St. Mary’s Hospital," I barked. "Fast as you can without killing us."
Connor nodded grimly and gunned the engine. The convoy pulled out of the estate gates like a military operation, but all I could focus on was Cassie’s shallow breathing, the way her face had gone gray with pain.
She stirred as we hit the main road, her eyes fluttering open to find mine. "Roman..."
"Don’t talk," I said, brushing damp hair back from her forehead. "Save your strength."
"I’m sorry," she whispered, and the words hit me like a physical blow.
"For what?"
"For not telling you—" Another cramp seized her, cutting off whatever confession she’d been about to make. She bit back a scream, her nails digging into my forearms hard enough to draw blood.
Not telling me what? But there was no time for questions, no time for anything except getting her help before I lost her completely.
The hospital appeared through the windshield like salvation, all glass, and steel against the night sky. Connor pulled right up to the emergency entrance, and I was out of the car before it fully stopped. Cassie cradled against my chest.
"I need a doctor!" I shouted as the automatic doors slid open. "Now!"
The emergency room exploded into controlled chaos. Nurses appeared with a gurney, their hands gentle but efficient as they transferred Cassie from my arms. I tried to follow, but a doctor in scrubs blocked my path.
"Sir, you need to let us work?—"
"I’m not leaving her." The words came out deadly quiet, carrying enough menace to make the man step back.
"Family only in the treatment area."
"I’m her fiancé."
He studied my face, probably taking in the expensive clothes, the barely concealed weapons, the cold authority that marked me as someone not to be crossed. After a moment, he nodded.
"The waiting room is through those doors. We’ll update you as soon as we know something."
I watched them wheel Cassie through double doors that might as well have been prison bars. The last thing I saw was her hand reaching for me before the doors swung shut, cutting us off from each other.
The waiting room was a sterile hell—fluorescent lights, plastic chairs, the smell of disinfectant that couldn’t quite mask the underlying scent of fear and death. I paced like a caged animal while my security detail took positions around the room, their presence violating a dozen hospital policies.
But I didn’t give a fuck about policies. Not when Cassie was behind those doors, fighting a battle I couldn’t help her win.
Time moved like molasses. Every minute felt like an hour, every sound from the treatment area making my pulse spike with hope or terror. I’d built an empire on patience and strategic thinking, but sitting in that waiting room stripped away every defense I’d ever built.
