My Husband's Father Wants Me

13

Arabella's POV

I paid the cab driver and practically sprinted into the hospital lobby, my heels clicking frantically against the polished linoleum.

It wasn't until I had finally sunk into the back seat of the cab that I checked my phone.

15 missed calls.

Nine of the fifteen missed calls were from the hospital billing department.

Ethan had called twice.

And my father had called four times.

"Good afternoon," I gasped out, leaning over the reception desk to get the attention of the duty nurse. "I'm here to ask about my mother, Sylvia Morgan. She was admitted to the ICU yesterday. Can you tell me how she's doing?"

The nurse looked up, her initial confusion shifting into sudden clarity as she checked the file on her screen. "Are you Arabella? Her daughter?"

"Yes, that's me," I said, my chest heaving. "I'm the one you've been trying to reach."

"I have to say, you children nowadays are far too negligent," the nurse scolded, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"Your mother is critically ill, and you just left her here without settling her account? If she hadn't received her medication when she did, we wouldn't have been able to stabilize her."

My eyes widened in sheer shock. "What?"

"I am so sorry," I apologized frantically, pulling out my phone. "The money for her treatment is ready. I can settle the entire balance right now—"

I froze mid-sentence, her words finally registering in my mind.

"Wait... what did you just say?" I stammered, looking at her in surprise. "You've... you've already administered her doses?"

"Yes, she's currently in her ward, responding to treatment." The nurse replied matter-of-factly.

"How?" My voice trembled. "I thought insurance wouldn't cover her new specialty treatment?"

"You weren't answering your phone," the nurse explained, turning back to her monitor. "Because it was an emergency, we had no choice but to contact the secondary emergency contact listed on her chart."

She scanned the screen for a second before adding, "A Mr. Morgan. That's your father, correct?"

"My... My father is here?" I whispered, a wave of cold panic washing over me.

"Yes, he arrived about half an hour ago—"

I didn't wait for her to finish. I spun around and bolted toward the elevators.

When the doors opened on the third floor, I ran down the corridor to Ward 6, my mom's ward.

I threw the door open, but my heart shattered when my eyes landed on an empty hospital bed. The sheets were stripped, the heart monitors silent.

"Mom?" I breathed, my hands shaking.

A sudden burst of giggling echoed from the corner of the room, cutting through my panic like a sharp knife.

My father and his mistress, Sophia, were lounge-sprawled together on the small visitor's sofa, acting as if they were in a private resort rather than a sterile hospital room.

A plate of sliced apples sat on the low table before them. Sophia was holding a small silver fork with a piece of apple, playfully teasing my father by pulling it back every time he opened his mouth.

When my dad tried to catch it, she took a small bite herself, prompting him to lunge forward and take a bite straight from the piece held between her lips.

They both burst into a fit of breathless giggles, clinging to each other like enamored teenagers.

It was sickening.

The sheer, shameless audacity to parade their distasteful affection inside my mother's ward made my blood boil.

"What the f**k is going on here?!" I roared.

The lovebirds snapped their heads toward the door, finally noticing me.

Sophia didn't look the least bit flustered. If anything, a smug, triumphant gleam flashed in her eyes.

My father, on the other hand, glared at me as if I were an insufferable pest who had dared to ruin his afternoon entertainment.

"Where is Mom?" I demanded, my voice cracking with rage. "Why isn't she in her bed?"

My father shoved the plate aside and stood up from the sofa, his tall frame towering over me as a wave of pure hostility radiated off him. Before I could even brace myself, his arm swung forward.

“SLAP!”

The force of his palm slammed into my cheek, sending my head snapping to the side. Pain flared hot against my skin, making my ears ring.

"You conniving little brat!" my father growled, his voice trembling with anger. "How dare you put my personal number on that hospital chart?!"

"You hit me... because the hospital called you to save my mother's life?" I choked out, cupping my burning cheek as I stared up at him through stinging eyes.

"Don't play innocent with me!" he spat, taking a menacing step closer. "You planned this, didn't you? You wanted them to call me so you could run to the press and claim I abandoned that dying woman if I refused to show up!"

He pointed a harsh finger directly at my face. "I warned you years ago that w***e is no longer your mother! Sophia is your mother now! I told you to stay away from Sylvia, but you just couldn't resist dragging my name through the gutter, could you?!"

"Calm down, darling," Sophia purred softly, rising from the sofa and placing a comforting hand on my father's arm. "Bella is still young and foolish. You shouldn't let yourself get so worked up over her mistakes."

She turned her gaze toward me, her face twisting into a sickening display of fake motherly concern.

"Bella dear, are you alright?" Sophia croaked, stepping closer. "Your father didn't mean to hit you, sweetie. Don't worry, Mom will make sure he apologizes—"

"Don't touch me!" I screamed.

Before her hand could graze my face, I swiped my arm across, slapping her hand away with enough force to send her stumbling back.

"I would rather rot in hell than call a venomous snake like you my mother," I spat, my chest heaving with unrestrained fury. I turned my burning eyes back to my father. "Where the hell did you move my mother?!"