Chapter 5 The Heiress Revealed?
Skylar quickly unbuttoned Adam’s shirt, her hands moving fast to start emergency care.
Elianna stood frozen, her mind spinning.
Adam had been gone all night; if anything happened to him, Yosef would lose it.
While Elianna stared, Skylar held Adam close, her fingers pressing gently but firmly in a steady rhythm.
Moments later, Adam’s eyes fluttered open. “Mommy… Mommy…” he mumbled.
He reached for Skylar, but her gaze turned cold, stopping him in his tracks.
“You’re Yosef’s son,” Skylar said, her voice even, hiding the turmoil inside. “The Campbell heir will get the best care money can buy.”
Elianna snapped out of her trance, smirking.
“Of course he will. He’s my son with Yosef—his pride and joy.” She shot Skylar a nasty look. “Unlike you.”
She tilted her head, her tone full of mockery. “But, Skylar, I didn’t think you’d pick up tricks in prison. What’s this, a fallback plan so you don’t end up begging on the streets?”
“Don’t worry,” she added, her smile mean. “If you crawl back to the Stones and beg, they might let you clean their floors.”
Elianna’s confidence soared now that Adam was okay.
She started throwing insults with glee, her face glowing with smug satisfaction.
“Slap!” A sharp sound rang out as Skylar’s hand connected with Elianna’s cheek.
“You… you hit me?” Elianna gasped, holding her face, shock and anger twisting her expression.
Skylar’s face stayed calm. “I just saved your kid’s life. Consider that your payment for it.”
Elianna lunged, ready to claw back, but both their phones buzzed at the same time.
Skylar glanced at her screen: a text. Mr. Lambert was awake.
Elianna’s phone rang, and Yosef’s voice came through, sharp with blame.
“Adam… he’s fine, Yosef, I’ve got him,” Elianna purred, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Nothing’s wrong, I swear…”
Skylar’s stomach turned at the fake tone.
She turned and walked away, eager to get out of there.
Adam tried to follow, but Elianna pulled him back, her glare keeping him in place.
Skylar stepped into the elevator, heading downstairs.
As the doors opened, a man in a tailored suit brushed past her.
The faint scent of his cologne, sandalwood and spice, hit her like a flashback.
Her breath caught, her chest tightening. She knew it was him.
As the elevator doors closed, Skylar realized her fists were clenched, nails digging into her palms.
Her heart raced, betraying her.
‘Still? After everything?’ She asked herself as she forced a bitter smile. Good thing she was wearing a mask covering her face.
Inside the elevator, Yosef’s brow creased. ‘That woman… something about her feels painfully familiar.’
“Stop,” he ordered, his voice sharp. “Go back to that floor.”
His assistant paused, confused. “Sir, your son’s upstairs…”
“Do it!” Yosef snapped.
Seconds later, the elevator opened again, but the woman was gone.
Yosef pressed a hand to his temple, a dull headache pulsing.
‘Am I losing it?’ he thought to himself, ‘Why was I seeing her—the woman who disappeared five years ago, leaving nothing but me behind?’
In the ICU, Skylar walked into a room full of people fawning over Mr. Lambert.
He sat up in bed, looking annoyed at the crowd. Even Yana, his wife, seemed fed up with the bootlickers.
“Mr. Lambert, our hospital went all out for you,” said a middle-aged man.
He pointed to his daughter, grinning. “Jade barely slept last night, managing your care. You know how dedicated she is.”
“No need to thank us,” Jaxon added, bowing slightly. “It’s just what we do.”
The guy was in a white coat, his voice slick.
His weaselly features matched Jade’s, marking him as her dad, Jaxon.
Yana’s face brightened when she saw Skylar at the door. She waved her over, pulling her into the room.
“Honey, this is Ms. Stone,” she said to her husband, her voice warm. “The one who saved your life yesterday.”
Carlos Lambert’s gaze softened, a fatherly warmth in his eyes as he looked at Skylar.
His eyes shimmered, a slight shake in his nod.
Skylar shifted, thrown off by the affection in his expression.
Jaxon and Jade, seeing Carlos’s warmth toward Skylar, tensed with jealousy.
Jaxon jumped in, eager to grab the attention.
“Oh, I heard all about it,” he said, his voice too cheerful. “Jade is the one who stepped back to give this young doctor a shot.”
He flashed a fake smile. “She’s got years of experience, but she wanted to support new talent.”
At last, he nodded hard. “It’s how we do things at Chestbee. I told Jade to guide her every step of the way.”
Jade added, “I couldn’t possibly do that without you, Dad.”
Skylar almost laughed at the shameless act.
She crossed her arms, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You two ever heard of a little thing called shame?”
Jaxon froze, thrown off balance. “What… what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your daughter was ready to plug Mr. Lambert into a ventilator and walk away,” Skylar said, her tone sharp. “Now you’re claiming she guided me? Her nerve’s thicker than a brick wall.”
Her words cut through the room, blunt and unforgiving, like a knife slicing clean.
Jade’s face turned red with fury. “Watch it,” she snapped, stepping forward. “You think one fluke surgery makes you a big deal?”
She pointed at the bed. “I’ve been taking care of Mr. Lambert for years. Without my work, you’d have tanked in there.”
Skylar’s eyes narrowed, her temper rising. “Work? Don’t make me laugh. You want to talk about your ‘care’? Fine—let’s talk about how you put his life at risk.”
She stepped closer, her voice calm but accusing. “Mr. Lambert’s had heart problems for years, and you dosed him with steroids to make him seem healthy. Meanwhile, his heart was failing faster because of it.”
“Yesterday, I nearly lost him on the table from excessive bleeding,” Skylar went on, her words firm and clear. “That’s the ‘foundation’ you built? You’re lucky I was there to fix your screw-up.”
Her words hit hard, and behind her, Carlos Lambert’s brow creased, his face darkening.
“Hmph,” Carlos grunted, his voice thick with contempt. “I’ve pumped millions into Chestbee Hospital, and this is how they handle my life—like it’s nothing?”
“Mr. Lambert, don’t buy her nonsense!” Jaxon jumped in, his voice desperate as he flailed his hands. “She’s making it up!”
Yana cut him off, her voice cold. “We’ll figure out who’s telling the truth.”
She softened, turning to Carlos. “But, honey, Ms. Stone saved your life. How do we thank her?”
Yana gave Carlos a knowing look, and he nodded, picking up her cue.
A sly spark lit his eyes. “How’s this?” he said, his tone almost playful. “We buy the land Chestbee Hospital’s on, tear it down, and build Ms. Stone a garden—whatever flowers she wants.”
