Selene’s POV
We rushed Rosie to the hospital, and Rafael stayed with me the entire time. He’d been so brave, quietly handing me water as I sat there, unable to look away from Rosie, tangled in the mess of hospital wires. The doctors assured me she was being closely monitored, but that didn’t ease the panic gnawing at my chest. They’d run lab tests—every possible test they could think of.
Meanwhile, Dominic and HR had been relentlessly calling, asking if I’d be reporting to work. How could they ask that now? How could I even think about leaving my job when my daughter’s life was hanging by a thread? And how could I avoid Dominic? His calls kept coming through, and my thoughts kept spiraling.
Then, a doctor came in and dropped the bombshell: Rosie needed brain surgery. The pressure inside her skull was dangerously high, and if it wasn’t relieved within 24 hours, it could lead to irreversible damage. She needed the surgery immediately.
I glanced at my phone, seeing Dominic’s text: Where are you?
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to try to steady myself, and then dialed his number.
Dominic's POV
She still wasn’t answering. Lucian went to her house and found it empty. Where the hell could she have gone? Panic was clawing at me, threatening to consume me whole when my phone rang. She’s in the hospital. I didn’t wait to hear more; I just grabbed my keys and went straight there.
When I saw her, my heart broke. Her eyes were swollen with tears.
“I need your help… and I’ll agree to have your DNA tested, but please... whatever the result is, please don’t take my kids away.”
*** It didn’t take long for the DNA results to come back. Just as I suspected, it was all just a formality. The kids are mine.
Selene stands rigid, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The hospital room is too small, the walls closing in around us, suffocating with the weight of what we both know. Rosalie lies in the hospital bed between us, her tiny frame lost in a mess of wires and monitors.
She looks so small. Too small.
I grit my teeth, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep myself from doing something rash—like hitting the nearest wall out of sheer frustration. The doctors assured me she’d be okay, but I’m not one to put my faith in hope. I believe in control and power. And I’ll spare no effort to ensure Rosalie gets the best treatment possible.
Selene’s lips press into a thin line. For a moment, I think she’s going to push me away, keep throwing her stubbornness at me like a weapon, but then her gaze shifts toward Rosalie.
Her shoulders sag, just barely, but I catch it.
“They’re all I have,” she whispers, her voice raw.
Something unfamiliar tightens in my chest.
I don’t have emotions. I don’t have sympathy. But the look on Selene’s face—the sheer desperation, the fear, the way she looks at Rosalie like she’s afraid to blink—it does something to me.
I inhale deeply, forcing myself to stay focused. “Then let me help. I can make sure Rosalie gets the best care in the country. No waiting, no complications.”
“You don’t have a choice, Selene,” I continue. “You can keep pretending you can do this alone, but it’s not just about you anymore. It’s about Rafael. It’s about Rosalie. And you know damn well I can give them a better life than you can.”
She stiffens, her jaw locking. She knows I’m playing dirty, but I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to claim what’s mine.
“What do you want?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I should say I just want my children. That I just want to be their father, to give them the life they deserve.
But that’s not enough.
“Marry me, and Rosie will be saved. They are my heirs, Selene. And I didn’t even need a DNA to prove they were mine. Think about it, together, we can find what really happened that night,” I say.
Her breath catches.
I take advantage of her shock and push forward. “You want security? You want protection? This is the way. If we get married, I can give you everything—money, resources, the best doctors for Rosalie. I can make sure no one ever threatens you again.”
She stares at me, her expression unreadable. She lets out a shaky breath, and for the first time, I see defeat settle in her expression. She knows she’s cornered.
“Fine,” she finally mutters. “I’ll marry you.”