Chapter 297

Serena’s POV
The news hit me like a freight train. The driver who’d nearly killed my brother had suddenly “confessed” in prison and then committed suicide. His family in Manchester had vanished without a trace. The police delivered this information with clinical detachment, but Ryan and I knew immediately what had happened.
“They’re tying up loose ends,” Ryan muttered as we exited the police station, his jaw tight with barely controlled anger.
I felt numb, disgusted by the callousness of it all. Yes, the driver bore responsibility for his actions, but he’d been a pawn, expendable in Parker and Edward’s eyes. Another life sacrificed on the altar of their ambition.
The afternoon sun felt inappropriately bright against my mood as I stepped onto the sidewalk. Detective Reynolds followed us out, her expression sympathetic.
“Serena,” she said softly, touching my arm. “I know what you’re thinking. That driver wasn’t innocent.”
I nodded mechanically, though it offered little comfort. The driver had a family—people who were now missing, likely terrified if they were still alive at all.
“Parker and Edward will face justice too,” Detective Reynolds continued, her voice hardening with conviction. “People like that always overreach eventually. Their time will come.”
“I know,” I replied, forcing strength into my voice even as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. “Thank you, Detective Reynolds”
She squeezed my shoulder. “I need to get back to work. Call me if you need anything or think of any new information.”
As I watched her walk away, the weight of everything crashed down on me anew. The Quinn family businesses were under constant threat, our reputation under scrutiny. Between managing the company crisis, visiting my father and brother in the hospital, and trying to unmask our enemies, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d truly rested.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” Ryan asked, his hand warm against the small of my back.
I shook my head. “I need to see Ethan.”
The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit me as soon as I stepped off the elevator. I’d grown to hate these sterile corridors, the rhythmic beeping of monitors, the hushed voices of medical staff. Each visit was a reminder of how fragile life could be, how quickly everything could change.
Through the half-open door of Ethan’s room, I could see Maya slumped in a chair beside his bed. My heart ached at the sight of her—usually so vibrant and strong—now looking like she might shatter at the slightest touch. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and her normally immaculate appearance had given way to rumpled clothes and untidy hair.
Ethan lay motionless, connected to machines that monitored his vital signs. His condition had been fluctuating—moments of consciousness followed by concerning periods of unconsciousness. The doctors remained cautiously optimistic, but I could see the worry behind their professional demeanor.
“Serena, you came,” Maya looked up as I entered, attempting a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“How are you holding up?” I asked, pulling a chair beside her. “And don’t put on a brave face for me. We’re way past that.”
She let out a bitter laugh that threatened to dissolve into tears. “I’m not pretending for you. I’m trying to stay strong for when he wakes up. He shouldn’t see me falling apart.”
I nodded, understanding completely. Maya had always been the pillar of strength in our friendship circle, but even pillars had breaking points.
“His condition hasn’t improved much,” she continued, looking toward Ethan’s still form. “Serena, I’ve been thinking—maybe we should transfer him to New York? They have specialists there who might be able to help more than the doctors here.”
I’d considered this too, had researched the top orthopedic surgeons in the country. But the risks of moving him, of taking him away from the security we’d established here in London…
“You’re hesitating,” Maya noted, her eyes narrowing. “Why? What aren’t you telling me?”
I sighed, rubbing my temples where a headache was forming. “If we move Ethan out of London, away from our security network, it creates vulnerability. Parker and his people could see it as an opportunity.”
“So we just keep him here where nothing’s changing?” Maya’s voice cracked. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Serena. When he’s awake, he’s in so much pain, but he never complains. I can see the fear in his eyes when the doctors examine his legs. He’s terrified of being permanently disabled, but he won’t say it out loud.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks now, and she made no attempt to wipe them away. “You should have seen him before all this. He was so alive, so confident. Now he just stares at the ceiling for hours.”
Her words stabbed through my heart. Ethan had always been vibrant, unstoppable—the golden boy of the Quinn family. Seeing him reduced to this state because of someone’s greed was almost unbearable. I blinked back my own tears, determined to stay strong for both Maya and my brother.
“We’ll make this right,” I promised, squeezing her hand. “I’ll find the best specialists in the world. His legs will heal, Maya. I swear to you.”
She wiped her face, trying to compose herself. “I’m sorry, Serena. I know you’re under enormous pressure with everything else. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you too—”
“Mrs. Serena, Miss Carter, it’s been a while. Why the tears?”
The familiar voice cut through our conversation, deep and confident. Both of us turned in surprise.
Lucian West stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. His expression held concern as he took in our tear-streaked faces.
“Lucian?” I whispered, genuinely shocked.
“Mr. West,” Maya echoed, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
My mind raced with questions. Lucian West, CEO of Celestial Gems and one of the most influential figures in the luxury jewelry market, had no obvious reason to be visiting my brother’s hospital room. We’d crossed paths at industry events over the years, maintained a cordial professional relationship, but we weren’t close friends by any means.
As he stepped into the room, I noticed he carried an elegant gift basket in one hand and what appeared to be a file folder in the other. Whatever had brought him here, I sensed it wasn’t a simple courtesy call.