Chapter 99
"Hupper needs to pay for what he did to you," Fleur hissed through her teeth, her gaze locking onto a distant point in the room as she tried to contain the sudden, violent surge of her protective instincts. "We are going to file a formal complaint with the police, and I’ll have someone hunt down his offshore assets."
"First thing in the morning," Raphael agreed, his voice steady and resolute despite his battered state.
Fleur nodded, realizing that the sheer physical toll of the ordeal was finally catching up to him. "Alright. I’m staying here with you tonight."
"No need, Fleur. Chloe and Gabriel need their mother at home," Raphael said, offering a tired, gentle smile. He had loved those pups like his own from the moment he met them. Even knowing he would never wear the title of their stepfather, he couldn’t simply switch off the fierce care he had cultivated for them over the years.
"Lea is holding down the fort with them, so don’t worry," Fleur reassured him, pulling the sterile hospital blanket higher up his chest. "I’m staying, and that is final."
Raphael let out a weak, breathy laugh, raising a bandaged hand to his brow in a playful, mock salute. "Yes, ma’am."
Fleur returned the smile, her expression softening. "Now shut your eyes. We’ll handle the rest tomorrow."
As Raphael’s breathing slowed into a steady rhythm of sleep, Fleur slipped out of her chair to call Lea. In the sheer panic of rushing to the clinic, she had completely forgotten to update her.
"Lea, it’s me," Fleur whispered, keeping her voice low to avoid waking the sleeping actor. "They found him. He’s safe."
"Oh, thank God," Lea breathed, her voice cracking with relief. "Is he alright?"
"He’s pretty battered, but the doctors have him stabilized. He just needs to rest and heal," Fleur explained.
"Fleur, thank you. I was losing my mind," Lea sighed, the heavy tension in her voice finally dissipating.
"Of course. I’m going to stay at his bedside tonight, but I’ll head back to check on Chloe and Gabriel first thing in the morning. Are they alright?" Fleur bit her lip, waiting anxiously for her friend’s reply.
"They’re perfect. I’m reading them a bedtime story about the Great Forest as we speak. Don’t worry about a thing here, Fleur. Just focus on Raphael," Lea assured her warmly before hanging up.
Setting her phone aside, Fleur settled back into the rigid plastic chair beside Raphael’s bed. She tried to distract herself by checking her design emails and scanning the local news, but the quiet hum of the clinic’s machinery eventually pulled her under.
In the deep, quiet hours of the night, Fleur drifted off.
She was dimly aware of a sudden shift in the air—the faint, intoxicating scent of cedarwood, winter frost, and heavy, possessive warmth wrapping around her senses. In her semi-conscious state, she felt a pair of impossibly strong, careful arms slide beneath her knees and back, lifting her weightless body.
She felt herself being cradled against a broad, solid chest, the steady, rhythmic thud of a powerful heartbeat vibrating against her cheek as she was gently laid down onto a soft mattress. A thick blanket was pulled to her chin, followed by a tender, lingering touch against her hair. She sighed happily into the pillow, convinced it was nothing more than a beautiful, vivid dream.
When Fleur woke up, the bright morning sun was streaming through the hospital window. To her surprise, she wasn’t stiffly slumped in the bedside chair; she was lying comfortably on a rollaway bed tucked into the corner of the private room.
She stretched, letting out a small yawn, when the quiet murmur of voices drew her attention. Instantly alert, she sat up to find a team of nurses checking Raphael’s vitals and adjusting his IV drip.
"How are you holding up this morning?" Fleur asked, quickly smoothing down her clothes as she approached the bed.
"A lot better," Raphael promised, his swollen eyes crinkling with a genuine smile.
"Good morning, Miss Swann," the lead trauma doctor greeted her warmly, stepping into the room.
"Oh—good morning, Doctor. I’m sorry, I was half-asleep," Fleur murmured, flushing slightly at her lack of manners. "How is his prognosis looking?"
"Mr. Dumas’ constitution is remarkable," the doctor noted, checking the digital chart. "We can discharge him tomorrow morning, though I want him under strict observation for the remainder of today."
Fleur let out a long, relieved breath. "That’s incredible news. Thank you so much, Doctor."
"Actually, I think I’d prefer to extend my stay," Raphael chimed in, throwing a playful pout in Fleur’s direction.
Fleur crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "What? Why? You can rest far better at your own place with a private nurse."
"But a private nurse won’t give me nearly as much undivided attention as you, Fleur," Raphael teased, his deep voice carrying a familiar, flirtatious lilt.
The doctor cleared his throat loudly, pinning the actor with a pointed, serious look. "If you two are quite finished, I have a chart to sign off on."
Fleur and Raphael exchanged an amused glance but quickly fell silent, letting the physician finish his rounds. With a reassuring pat on Raphael’s shoulder, the doctor advised him to keep resting before leading the nursing staff out of the room.
"You are absolutely impossible," Fleur laughed, shaking her head as she sat back down in her usual chair.
"Maybe," Raphael murmured, his eyes softening. "But having you here really does make a difference."
Fleur smiled, but her thoughts suddenly drifted back to the strange sensation from the night before. She looked at Raphael, her brow furrowing. There was no way he could have carried her in his condition, but she had to ask.
"Raphael... did you carry me over to that bed last night?"
"Believe me, I would have loved to play the hero," Raphael smirked, though a flicker of genuine regret crossed his face as he gestured to his heavily bandaged shoulder. "But with these cracked ribs and a torn shoulder, I would have dropped you flat on your face."
"Then how did I get over there?" Fleur muttered, her confusion growing. "I distinctly remember falling asleep right here in this chair."
Raphael shrugged, looking entirely clueless. But as he turned his gaze toward the window, a subtle, knowing smile played at the corner of his lips.