After Rejection Divorced Luna Becomes A Famous Doctor (Hailey and Dominic) novel Chapter 208

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Someone had set events into motion knowing exactly what would happen.

“This wasn’t just an accident. It can’t be. We were living just fine. No problems. No threats. No warning signs. One minute he was active and teasing me about stopping for pastries on the way home, and the next-” My voice broke, the words shattering as I pulled back from Hailey’s shoulder, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “People don’t just end up like that for no reason. Not Giovanni. Not when everything was finally… good.”

Hailey didn’t interrupt me. She never did when I got like this. She just held me tighter, her chin

resting against the top of my head, her arms wrapped around me while the world tilted dangerously beneath my feet. Dominic shifted closer, his presence heavy, protective, the Alpha in him radiating even now, but his eyes betrayed him. They were haunted. The kind of eyes that had

already started replaying every decision, every moment, searching for where things had gone

wrong.

“I know,” Hailey said softly after a moment, her voice steady in a way mine wasn’t. “I know it feels

wrong. And maybe it is. But right now, all that matters is Giovanni pulling through this. We can’t afford to tear ourselves apart chasing ghosts.

I shook my head slowly, the motion deliberate, resolute. “This isn’t paranoia,” I whispered, lowering my voice even though the hallway was empty. “This is instinct. And my instincts have never failed

me when it comes to him. Ever.” I pressed a hand to my chest, right over my heart, feeling it hammer violently against my ribs. “Something is off. And I swear, Hailey, if this has anything to do with Yasmine-”

Dominic’s jaw tightened visibly at her name, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he was fighting the urge to put a fist through the nearest wall. “Don’t,” he said quietly, but there was no reprimand in his tone. Just exhaustion. “We don’t have proof. And the last thing we need is to

spiral into assumptions while Giovanni is lying in there fighting for his life.”

“I’m not spiraling,” I snapped before I could stop myself, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended. Guilt followed immediately, but the anger was too close to the surface, too raw to fully rein in. “I’m paying attention. There’s a difference.”

I dragged a hand down my face, scrubbing at the remnants of tears. “I just… I can’t lose him,” I said,

my voice barely audible now. “I won’t survive it. I won’t. Our baby needs him. I need him. I refuse to

accept a reality where he doesn’t wake up.”

“You won’t have to,” Hailey said firmly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Giovanni is strong. Stubborn as hell. If anyone can fight his way back from this, it’s him.” Her voice dropped, fierce and unyielding. “And if someone did this, if someone thought they could hurt our family and

get away with it, they’re going to regret it.”

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Dominic nodded once, a slow, deliberate motion. “You have my word,” he said, his tone low and

ironclad. “If this wasn’t an accident, I will find out who’s responsible. Alpha or not, coven or not, no one touches my people and walks away unscathed

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CHAPTER HUNDRED-SIXTYTWO

VALERIE

It’s been two days.

Of…

Of silence, mostly.

I have learned the language of this hospital room: the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, the steady hiss of the ventilator, the soft hum of machines that are keeping the man I love from slipping away completely. The doctors keep talking about encouraging signs, small improvements in brain activity they’re monitoring on screens I can’t read, but to me, Giovanni looks the same. Still. Too still.

His family always came. Urging me to at least go home, get some sleep. Sleep felt like a luxury for people whose worlds weren’t currently on fire, so I would just shake my head, and they would leave me with more food, more coffee, and more worried glances. Hailey was taking care of my baby, I would pump several times a day to send off to her.

I spend most of the day talking to him. At first, I was self conscious, my voice sounding thin and small in the cold room, but now, it’s second nature. tell him everything. I tell him about the baby, how he’s too small to figure out what’s going on, how he has to wake up because he has a long journey of fatherhood to travel. I read to him from the book he’d left on the nightstand, my fingers tracing the words on the page as I spoke, wishing I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin instead of the air circulating from a vent in the ceiling.

Today, I am tracing the familiar lines of his face, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his jaw, when I feel it. A faint, almost imperceptible pressure against my palm.

I freeze, my heart seizing in my chest.

I stare at his hand, my own trembling as I wait, scarcely daring to breathe. Was that it? Or am I so desperate for a sign that my mind is playing tricks on me?

Then I feel it again. A weak squeeze. Just the barest twitch of his fingers, but it was there. He’s responding.

A sob tears from my throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated relief. I press his hand to my lips, my tears falling onto our joined fingers.

“Giovanni?” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Can you hear me? Baby, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand again.”

I wait. An eternity passes in the span of a few seconds. The machines continue their steady noise. And then, once more, a slight pressure.

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