The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 370

NOAH.

I can’t sit still, no matter how hard I try.

For the past hour, maybe more, I’ve lost track of time. I’ve been in dad’s office, alternating between sitting, standing, and pacing, only to repeat the same cycle again seconds later because staying still feels like I’m suffocating.

The silence in the room doesn’t help, and neither does the fact that every second that passes feels like another second wasted. Another second my daughter is out there. Another second Sierra is lying in that hospital bed without her.

My jaw tightens as I drag a hand through my hair, turning as I pace toward the window before stopping midway and turning again.

Dad watches me from behind his desk, his expression calm in a way that feels almost unreal given the situation, while Gunner leans against the wall with his arms crossed, quiet for once as his eyes track my every move.

When my phone rings, the sound cuts through the tension, sharp and sudden. I grab it immediately without checking the caller ID.

“What?” I snap.

“It’s me,” Lilly says, her voice softer than I expect. “She’s awake.”

My grip on the phone tightens, and for a moment I say nothing. Images of yesterday flash through my mind and something twists painfully in my chest.

“Okay,” I finally say, my voice flat.

There’s a brief pause on her end before she asks, “You’re not coming?”

The question lingers, heavier than it should. I stare at the floor, my jaw locking.

How can I? How can I face when I haven’t found our baby? How am I supposed to stand in front of her when she’s in that state because of me? When she’s in so much pain, both emotionally and physically because me? Because of who I allowed into my life?

"No," I growl, “Not until I find our daughter.”

Lilly doesn’t respond, and I don’t wait for her to. I end the call and the silence that follows pressing down on me even harder than before. For a moment, I remain still, the phone still in my hand, before something inside me snaps into place.

“I’m leaving,” I say, already heading toward the door.

“Where are you going?” my father asks.

I turn slightly, meeting his gaze. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”

His tone remains steady. “Let the police handle it. That’s what they’re there for. There’s nothing you can do right now.”

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