Chapter 7

Trent's POV

The hospital room became colder than when I first brought my father in; I didn't know maybe it was just me. My fingers kept hitting slightly the armrest of the stiff chair; a drum-like noise echoed gently from it. My leg bounced and moved sweetly as if the movement could speed up time. My eyes were heavy, but I couldn't sleep as my heart was filled with pain. The sterile scent of the antiseptic filled the air, mixing with the low hum of machines and soft murmurs from the hospital staff on night-shift. Every minute stretched was filled with uncertainty. My father was right there in the hospital emergency room, fighting for his life. The door explained that he was stable; however, stable didn't mean safe, not after what had happened. 

It's been hours that I have been here; the night has turned morning, and I am still waiting to see if my father could get up from his seat and be able to speak with me. His last words about Lenore echoed deeply in my ears. I didn't want to think about it; think about why he insisted on me getting married to Lenore and not Yvonne. 

Suddenly, I heard the doors of the waiting room slightly open, and some steps of footsteps followed. It was Yvonne and her father, Mr. Donovan, who walked in. They didn't need an introduction; they were already aware of what had happened.

“Trent!” Yvonne's called my name; in a soft voice, cutting through the silence of the room like a knife. Her eyes studied every expression, every moment of my body. However, I was well familiar with her; she never does anything without a reason.

“How is he now, Trent? I have called you many times!” She asked; I had silenced my phone. It wasn't the time to pick up any calls.

I kept my eyes fixed on the sterile hospital wall; I didn’t want to meet her gaze. My eyes found a way to walk through my face and started rubbing off the exhaustion from my eyes. I was in no mood for the conversation. “He is responding to treatment!” I muttered! The words felt bitter; they were just ordinary words, those words you give when you don't have anything new to say; they weren’t good news or bad news…they were just there. 

Mr. Donovan took some steps forward and moved close to me. His hand held firmly to my shoulder. I couldn't tell if it was for support or a show. “This is good to hear, Trent! Keep us updated; don't forget we are here for you and we will always be!” His voice was calm; like it was just another business meeting. 

I nodded. I could feel the gesture was shallow; however, I know they wanted to keep the loop; we were like family. Yvnno was my fiance. The Donovan family always ensured they knew and were on track of what was happening to the Knight family, especially when it involved the Knight family. There was no reason for me to doubt their genuine concern; however, I slowly began to feel if there was more to it.

Without any further response from me, Yvonne hugged me tight. “I will see you later, Trent; please be fine!” She said, and I watched her and her father turn towards the door and leave, their polished shoes clicking softly against the hospital floor. The moment they left, the air became colder, and the room was pressing down on me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that things were slipping out of my control. 

I stood still for a moment, the chair scraping against the floor, and I grabbed my jacket. I needed to clear my head to get out here as soon as I could. I needed to start working on how to fish out the perpetrator of such evil. The drive to Knight Villa wasn't far; however, it felt like an eternity drive. The familiar streets became blurry, and my mind kept asking rhetorical questions. 

When I got to Knight Villa, something felt off; everywhere was too quiet, and the air around was too still. I pushed open the front door and stepped in expecting the usual activities of years ago; however, I felt none; things had really changed, and I never noticed in a long time except now. Everywhere was empty. 

I frowned and walked through the grand foyer, my steps slamming against the marble floor. “Why the hell is this house empty? No security guards, no cook, or whatever.” Suddenly I saw a familiar face appear, full-dressed in cooking rob. She had been with my father for quite a long time, and she knows everything about my father's dishes, what he eats, and at what specific time he eats!” I didn't even know when I raised my voice at her. 

“Where the hell is everyone? Are you the only cook here? Where are the security guards? The cleaner and whatsoever!” I demanded furiously from the innocent woman, my eyes exuding fire. 

“I'm sorry, sir. I am the only cook here; I see to the affairs of this house; the cleaners only come twice a week to clean, and then there is only one security guard! Your father didn't trust anyone!” She explained with fear, and I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't understand why my father did that. 

“You can leave! I said to her, and then she scrabbled against the marble floor as she disappeared out of my sight! I knew she had lots of questions to ask; however, she was mute about it. She was too afraid to ask me, not in such an expression.

The cook's words echoed in my head; I couldn't believe it was only her and one security guard stationed lazily by the front gate who were the only ones present in this house. And I was never aware. I clenched my fists as my stomach bubbled with frustration. My father was nearly killed, and there was only one guard that could protect him.