'I Do' For Revenge-Chapter 219: You Are Nothing
~LAYLA~
The world turned into a mix of bright lights and loud voices.
"Grandfather!" I called, my hands clutching the lapels of his velvet tuxedo. He was very still.
"Back up! Give him air!" Axel’s voice boomed above the chaos.
He was beside me in an instant, dropping to his knees. He placed two fingers against the Duke’s neck as he tried to read his pulse.
"Is he..." I couldn’t finish the sentence.
"He has a pulse," Axel said, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. "It’s thready. We need a medic now!"
Isabelle appeared at the edge of the dais. Her face was pale, her makeup streaked with tears, but her eyes were darting around the room, assessing the crowd, the press, and the damage.
"You did this!" she shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at me. "You and your demands! You pushed him too far! I told him his heart couldn’t take the excitement!"
The cameras flashed, capturing her accusation. She was already spinning the narrative. She was already writing the headline: Estranged Granddaughter Kills Duke.
"Shut up, Isabelle," Axel snarled without looking up.
Paramedics burst through the double doors, pushing through the stunned crowd of aristocrats. They swarmed the stage, pushing me back. I tried to stay close, but strong arms wrapped around my waist, holding me steady.
"Let them work, Layla," Axel whispered into my hair. "Let them work."
I watched as they cut open the Duke’s shirt, attaching leads to his chest. Then loaded him onto a stretcher. I watched the oxygen mask fog up with his shallow breaths.
"I’m going with him," I said in a shaky voice.
"Family only," one of the paramedics said as they rushed the stretcher toward the exit.
"I am his granddaughter," I said, stepping forward.
"She is nothing!" Isabelle shouted, chasing after the stretcher. "I am his daughter! I am his next of kin! I forbid her from the ambulance!"
The paramedic looked between us. "We don’t have time for this," he snapped. "Daughter, get in. We need to move."
Isabelle climbed in, shooting me a look of pure triumph before the doors slammed shut.
I stood there, stranded in my emerald gown, watching the flashing blue lights disappear into the rainy night.
"Come on," Axel said, grabbing my hand. "We’re following them."
—
The waiting room at St. Jude’s Hospital felt clean but uncomfortable.
It had been two hours. Two hours of silence. Two hours of staring at the clock.
Isabelle and Julian were huddled in the corner. Julian was on his phone, furiously whispering to someone, likely a lawyer or a PR firm. Isabelle was pacing, glaring at me every time she turned.
I sat in a plastic chair, shivering. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving only the cold reality that the only person in that house who actually cared about me might be dying.
Axel had draped his tuxedo jacket over my shoulders. He stood guard next to my chair, his arms crossed, staring down anyone who dared to approach.
The double doors finally swung open, and a doctor in blue scrubs walked out, looking exhausted.
Isabelle lunged forward. "How is he? Is he awake?"
"He’s alive," the doctor said, and I breathed in relief. "But it was a massive stroke, Lady Isabelle. He is currently in a medically induced coma to reduce swelling in the brain. The next twenty-four hours are critical."
"Will he wake up?" I asked, standing up.
The doctor looked at me, then back at Isabelle. "It’s too early to tell. If he does... there may be significant impairment. Speech, movement, it’s all uncertain."
Isabelle let out a sob, leaning into Julian.
"Can we see him?" Julian asked.
"Briefly," the doctor said. "Two at a time."
"I’ll go," Isabelle said instantly. "And Julian."
"I want to see him," I said, stepping forward.
Isabelle whirled on me. "You? You’ve done enough damage. You aren’t family, Layla. You’re a spectacle, a stressor. The doctor said he needs rest. Your presence is a threat to his recovery."
"But I am family. I’m his granddaughter," I said, my voice hardening. "He acknowledged me."
"He announced it to a room full of drunks," Isabelle spat. "But did he sign the papers?"
The question hung in the air like a guillotine blade.
Axel stiffened beside me.
From the hallway entrance, a grey-haired man in a raincoat hurried toward us. It was Mr. Sterling, the family solicitor. He looked ashen.
"Mr. Sterling," Julian said, intercepting him. "Tell me you have the documents."
Sterling stopped, looking between Axel and Isabelle. He took off his glasses, wiping them nervously with a handkerchief.
"The papers were drawn up," Sterling said quietly. "The transfer of the estate, the amendment to the trust, everything was ready."
"Was?" Axel asked sharply. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮
"He was scheduled to sign them tomorrow morning," Sterling said. "At 9:00 AM. He wanted to make the announcement first, then sign the deed over breakfast."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Isabelle let out a short, sharp laugh. "So," she said, smoothing her skirt. "He didn’t sign."
"Technically, no," Sterling admitted. "However, the verbal declaration in front of witnesses..."
"Means nothing in probate court without a signature," Julian finished, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Especially if the mental state of the declarer is in question. And considering he had a stroke moments later... one could argue he was confused. Delirious, even."
"He wasn’t confused," I said, my hands clenching into fists. "He was lucid. He knew exactly what he was doing."
"Can you prove that?" Isabelle challenged, stepping closer. "Because right now, he’s in a coma. And until he wakes up and signs those papers... the old will stands. Which means I am the executor. And I am the heir."
She looked at the doctor. "Doctor, as his next of kin and legal guardian, I am restricting his visitors. No one outside of the immediate family is to see him. And that includes her."
She pointed at me.
"Isabelle?" Axel called, his voice sounding more like a warning growl.
"Security!" Isabelle shouted.
