Anhurst Hospital.
As he watched Mika Summers get wheeled into the emergency room, all the strength drained from his body. If Ian Shaw hadn't been there to catch him, he surely would have collapsed onto the floor.
"Tristan, we need to get that bullet out of your hand. Someone—"
Tristan Grayson violently shook off Ian's arm, his voice cold as he stopped him from calling for help. "My hand is fine!"
"Tristan Grayson, do you fucking want to lose that hand?!" Ian's patience snapped, and he roared furiously.
"Then let it be ruined!" It was just one hand. If something happened to Mika and the baby, what use would this hand be to him then?
Ian was stunned by Tristan's words. Then, as if a thought struck him, he stared at Tristan in astonishment. "Tristan Grayson, you're willing to ruin your hand for a woman? Don't tell me you've actually fallen in love with her!"
"And so what if I have!" Tristan's aggressive energy suddenly vanished. A bleak, tragic smile touched his lips.
