Chapter Six

Esmé’s POV

The world went completely silent for a single, terrifying second. The only thing echoing in the morning air was that awful, heavy thud.

Then, everything erupted into pure chaos.

“Noa!” Mr. De La Fontaine screamed. It wasn't the voice of the cold, untouchable billionaire anymore. It was the raw, broken cry of a desperate father.

He moved faster than I thought humanly possible, sprinting past me toward the asphalt. The massive black SUV had skidded to a halt a few yards down, its tires smoking.

A panicked driver tumbled out of the front seat, shaking and screaming apologies, but Mr. De La Fontaine didn't even look at him. He just unleashed a string of furious cusses, shoving the driver out of his way as he dropped to his knees in the middle of the road.

“Noa! Noa, open your eyes! Look at Daddy!” he choked out, his voice cracking with an agony that made my chest tighten.

He carefully gathered her tiny, limp body into his arms. Her purple pajamas were already stained with dirt and a terrifying smear of red from her forehead. Without wasting a single second, he lifted her up, pressing her against his chest, completely ignoring the blood soaking onto his white shirt.

“Luka!” he roared, his eyes wild with panic. “Get the car over here now!”

Luka was already moving. He backed the sedan up with a fierce screech of tires, throwing the doors open before the vehicle even came to a full stop.

I turned around, my heart hammering against my ribs, and saw Lenon. She was still standing near the gates, completely frozen. Her tiny hands were clamped over her ears, and her face was stark white, her wide eyes locked onto the road in absolute horror. She looked like she was about to faint.

I couldn't leave her like that.

I dashed over to the gate, dropping to my knees right in front of her. “Lenon, look at me,” I said urgently, grabbing her trembling shoulders to snap her out of it. “Look at Esmé. We need to go with Noa, okay? Come with me.”

She didn't say a word. She just gave a frantic nod, her little fingers instantly latching onto my sleeve with a death grip. I swept her up into my arms, holding her tightly against me, and ran toward the open door of the sedan.

Mr. De La Fontaine was already in the backseat, holding Noa close, his hand pressed firmly against the wound on her head to stop the bleeding. His face was pale as ash, his breathing ragged.

I scrambled into the backseat right next to him, keeping Lenon tucked securely on my lap. I turned her head into my shoulder, shielding her face so she wouldn't have to see her sister's blood.

“Drive, Luka! Drive!” Mr. De La Fontaine barked, his voice hitting a sharp, frantic pitch. “Get us to the nearest hospital! Don’t stop for anything!”

Luka slammed his foot on the gas, and the sedan shot forward, tearing away from the estate and flying into the morning traffic.

The air inside the car was suffocating, thick with panic and the metallic scent of copper. Mr. De La Fontaine kept his eyes glued to Noa's pale face, whispering her name over and over like a frantic prayer.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity. Luka drove like a madman, weaving through lanes and swerving past cars until he finally pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. The tires screeched as the sedan came to a violent halt.

Before the car even fully stopped, Mr. De La Fontaine threw his door open. He jumped out, cradling Noa tightly against his bloody shirt, and stormed through the sliding glass doors.

"Get a doctor!" his voice boomed through the pristine, white hallway. It was a terrifying roar that demanded immediate attention. "Now!"

The medical staff took one look at his face, recognized exactly who he was, and instantly sprang into action. Within seconds, a team of doctors and nurses rushed forward with a gurney.

"Sir, place her here," a head doctor ordered, his voice tense but controlled.

Mr. De La Fontaine carefully laid Noa down on the white sheets. His hands were shaking violently, covered in his daughter's blood.

The doctor quickly checked her vitals, his eyes widening slightly as he saw the deep gash on her forehead and her shallow breathing. "She's losing too much blood, and her heart rate is dropping. Take her to the OR now! We don't have time!"

The nurses immediately began pushing the gurney down the hall, their movements frantic.

I scrambled out of the car, carrying Lenon, and rushed into the lobby just in time to see them starting to wheel Noa away. Lenon buried her face deeper into my neck, her tiny body trembling with fear.

"Noa!" Mr. De La Fontaine called out, stepping forward to follow them, his face completely pale as ash.

But as the gurney began to move, a faint, weak sound cut through the chaos of the hallway.

Noa’s eyelids fluttered open just a fraction. With the very little strength and breath she had left in her tiny body, she lifted a trembling, bloody hand. She didn't reach for her father.

She pointed directly at me.

"Mommy..." Noa whispered, her voice cracking, so small it barely carried across the space between us. "Mommy... I need Mommy..."

The entire hallway seemed to freeze. The nurses paused for a split second, looking at me with wide, confused eyes, before continuing to push the gurney toward the double doors of the operating room.

I stood there, completely paralyzed, holding Lenon tightly against my chest. My heart shattered all over again at the sound of that desperate plea.

Slowly, Mr. De La Fontaine turned his head. He looked away from the closing doors of the OR and fixed his gaze entirely on me.

The sorrow that had broken his face moments ago was gone, swallowed by a dark, terrifying transformation. The skin around his jaw was so tight it looked ready to snap.

He took one slow step toward me, then another, until his tall frame completely blocked the light of the hallway.

The smell of copper clung to him. He looked down at me, his chest heaving under his blood-soaked white shirt.

"This is your fault," he whispered. The quietness of his voice was far more terrifying than his roar.

"Mr. De La Fontaine, I was only trying to—"

Before I could finish, he closed the distance between us. He didn't touch me, but he leaned down until his shadow completely enveloped me. The raw, suffocating rage radiating off him made my knees tremble. Lenon whimpered in my arms, hiding her face completely in the crook of my neck.

"If she does not survive that room," he hissed, his voice dropping into a lethal, venomous crawl, "I will personally make sure you suffer for the rest of your miserable life."

I swallowed hard, the air freezing in my throat.

"You brought your face into my house," he continued, his teeth bared as his eyes locked onto mine. "You filled her head with illusions. You made her run. If anything happens to my daughter... if her heart stops... I will destroy you.

I will strip away everything you have ever cared about until you have nothing left but the clothes on your back. Do you understand me?"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even breathe. I wanted to scream that I hadn't asked for any of this, that I was just a girl who needed a paycheck, that he was the one who let go of her hand. But looking into his eyes, I knew logic didn't live there anymore. Only a monster born of grief.

"Luka," Mr. De La Fontaine barked, never breaking eye contact with me.

"Yes, sir," Luka stammered, stepping forward from the entrance, his face completely pale.

"Watch her," the billionaire commanded, his voice cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins. "She doesn't leave this hospital. She doesn't take a single step out of your sight. If my daughter wakes up and asks for her, she will be exactly where I can find her. And if my daughter doesn't wake up... she will answer to me."

He turned on his heel, his leather shoes clicking sharply against the linoleum floor as he walked toward the heavy double doors of the waiting area.