My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge

Chapter 311: Without Waiting (4)

An hour later, another ambulance arrived at the emergency bay of the hospital—this time carrying Annie. Though her condition was critical, the paramedics had managed to stabilize her just enough for transport.

She was rushed into the same hospital as Duncan, but unlike Duncan—whose gurney had already disappeared into surgery—Annie was unconscious, her pale face barely recognizable beneath the streaks of dried blood and bruises.

Cammy sat stiffly in the waiting area just outside the operating room. She hadn’t changed out of her dusty clothes. Her phone rested loosely in her hand, untouched. Her eyes were locked on Dylan, who had finally fallen asleep with his head on her lap, his little hand still clutching the fabric of her blouse tightly.

Greg stood a few steps away, talking quietly with the nurse at the front desk, handling formalities as doctors moved swiftly behind the swinging doors.

Suddenly, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Cammy!"

Cammy looked up just in time to see Ric rushing toward her, his face flushed, worry painted deep into his features. He knelt down in front of her, breathing hard.

"Ric?" she blinked in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I—I called Grace earlier for some legal advice," Ric explained quickly, brushing his hair back with one shaky hand. "But she said she couldn’t talk because Dylan was taken by Annie. That’s when I panicked. I called Randolf and found out you were here."

He looked her over, then gently glanced at the sleeping child on her lap, relief washing over his face.

"Thank God, he’s okay..." Ric said softly before continuing, "After that, I called Annie’s father—Bartolomeu Tucker. He’s on his way here now."

Cammy’s eyes widened, her lips parted in disbelief. "You... you called him?"

"I didn’t know what else to do. He needed to know. This has gone too far, Cammy. Someone had to tell him," Ric said gently but firmly.

Cammy swallowed hard, suddenly feeling the full weight of everything. Dylan, Duncan, Annie, the gun, the fall, the blood... It was all too much. She held Dylan a little tighter, then nodded.

"Thank you, Ric... for coming."

Ric sat beside her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "You’re not alone in this, okay? No matter how complicated everything gets, we’re here—for you, for Dylan, and for whatever comes next."

Just then, a nurse pushed the operating room doors open, and both Cammy and Ric stood up quickly. But it wasn’t news yet—just more supplies being brought in.

Greg joined Cammy and Ric, giving Ric a firm nod. "You’re here... good."

Ric relayed to Greg the same explanation he gave Cammy—how he found out, who he called, and how fast everything escalated.

"Thanks for coming, man," Greg said, his voice heavy but sincere. "It was chaos. We could’ve lost Dylan tonight... and honestly, we still don’t know if Duncan or Annie will make it. We’re doing everything we can, but it’s been hell."

"Where’s Randolf now?" Ric asked, scanning the corridor.

"He’s with the police. Giving his statement. I assume we’re next." Greg rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at Cammy, who was cradling Dylan protectively in her arms as he slept.

Just then, Grace came rushing down the corridor, out of breath, her heels clicking sharply against the polished hospital floor.

"I’m sorry—sorry I just got here!" she said, approaching the group. "There was traffic between the airport and your house, but I dropped off Dylan’s things first. How is everyone? What’s the update?"

Cammy looked up, eyes swollen from crying, her voice hoarse. "They’re both in surgery. Duncan was shot, and Annie... the doctors aren’t sure she’ll survive. The fall did a number on her. And if she doesn’t make it..." Cammy’s voice cracked, "Her baby... what will happen to her baby?"

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and Grace immediately embraced her. "Oh, Cammy..."

Greg cleared his throat and gently placed his hand on Cammy’s back. "Grace, Ric... we need a favor. Can you two stay with Dylan? I want Cammy checked out. After everything she’s been through today, we can’t take any chances with the baby."

"Of course," Ric said without hesitation.

Grace nodded. "Yes, go. We’ve got him. And this time, Greg..." she added with a small, sheepish smile, "I’m not taking my eyes off that kid even for a second."

Greg smirked, though his eyes remained clouded with worry. "Good. I’m holding you to that."

The nurse who had been discreetly waiting nearby helped escort Cammy and Greg to the emergency wing. A brief ultrasound and full check-up later, the doctor returned with reassuring news. noveldrama

"Vitals are good. No signs of fetal distress. The baby is strong—both mother and baby," the doctor confirmed.

A small wave of relief washed over Greg, who kissed Cammy’s forehead. "Thank God..."

They rejoined the others in the waiting area, where Grace was now braiding Dylan’s hair to calm him. He woke up and instantly looked for Cammy.

Ric flipped through cartoons on a tablet to keep the boy distracted.

But the moment they stepped back into the corridor, the air shifted. The heavy, deliberate sound of leather shoes hitting tile echoed down the hallway like a war drum.

A figure turned the corner—a tall, silver-haired man in an impeccably tailored suit, flanked by two grim-looking assistants.

Bartolomeu Tucker.

The air around him felt heavier than the hospital walls. His jaw was clenched, his steps were sharp, and his eyes were blazing with emotion—grief, fury, disbelief.

Everyone turned to him as he came to a stop in front of the group.

"Where is my daughter?" he demanded, voice gravelly and full of rage.

Cammy stood, trying to remain calm despite the storm of emotions inside her. "She’s in surgery... the doctors are doing everything they can. I’ll be honest. It’s not looking good."

Bartolomeu’s lips pressed into a hard line, nostrils flaring. "And how the hell did this happen? How did my daughter end up falling from a fucking balcony?!"

Ric stepped forward, trying to keep things from exploding. "Mr. Tucker, I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be—but there’s a lot you don’t know yet. Right now, we’re all just hoping everyone makes it out alive."

Bartolomeu’s gaze snapped to Cammy. "Did you do this? Did you push her over the edge like everything else you’ve taken from her?"

Greg moved like lightning, stepping in front of Cammy. "Don’t you dare talk to my wife like that. Your daughter kidnapped a child at gunpoint. She almost killed Cammy, Duncan, and Dylan tonight. The only reason she’s still alive is because of us after she held our son hostage."

Bartolomeu’s expression twisted in disbelief.

But Cammy noted that few words from Greg made her smile a bit. ’Our son? I guess he also considers Dylan his son too...’

"Tell me you’re lying," he said, voice breaking for the first time. "Tell me Annie didn’t do that..."

No one spoke.

The silence was answer enough.

His knees almost buckled, and one of his aides caught his elbow to steady him. The powerful businessman was suddenly just a father—wrecked, horrified, and lost.

Just then, the double doors to the operating room opened.

A surgeon stepped out, removing his mask.

Everyone turned.

The doctor looked around at the anxious faces and said, "Mr. Cross? Mrs. Cross? We need to speak with you... about Duncan."

Everyone held their breath.

The storm had not passed.

Not yet.