Chapter 555

The room fell into complete silence for several heartbeats.

Julian studied Claire's pale face before declaring with conviction, "I'm the father of this child."

His words ignited a fire in Lucas, who swung his fist without warning. The punch connected with Julian's nose, sending crimson droplets splattering across the hospital floor.

"Who gave you the right to claim my daughter?" Lucas snarled.

Seeing the blood, Claire's temper flared. "Lucas! Have you lost your mind? Get out of my hospital room this instant!"

Julian pressed a hand to his throbbing nose, wincing in pain. Evelyn quickly produced tissues and offered them. "Julian, should I call a doctor?"

He shook his head, stuffing the tissues against his nostrils. "It's nothing serious." Then he turned to Lucas with narrowed eyes. "Leave. Claire just had major surgery. If you upset her and her stitches rupture, I'll make sure you regret it."

Julian was perhaps the only person whose orders Lucas would never follow. Yet the truth in his words couldn't be ignored.

Fresh from childbirth and a car accident, Claire couldn't afford emotional distress.

"Rest well, Claire," Lucas muttered before exiting, planning to return when she'd regained strength.

Within minutes, a nurse entered to administer an IV. "That handsome man has been pacing the hallway all afternoon," she remarked while adjusting the drip. "Family?"

Claire glimpsed through the door crack and saw Alexander still waiting for Evelyn outside.

"You should go home," Claire told Evelyn. "You're pregnant too. At least my baby's safely delivered now."

Evelyn hesitated until Julian assured her, "I'll take care of everything. The household staff are already on their way."

With Evelyn gone, only Julian remained with Claire in the sterile room.

"Hungry?" He gently smoothed her blanket edges.

Claire gave a slight headshake, studying Julian's disheveled appearance. "Clean yourself up," she murmured.

He obeyed without protest.

Returning fifteen minutes later, his dark hair damp, water droplets trailed down his sharp jawline onto his freshly changed white shirt. Claire's eyes were closed, so Julian moved like a shadow - silent steps, controlled breathing.

Standing vigil at her bedside, his mind flashed to the roadside scene - Claire's bloodied form, the paralyzing terror that had gripped him. Never before had he experienced such soul-crushing helplessness.

Thankfully, both mother and child had survived.

His gaze dropped to her IV-pierced hand. The delicate skin showed faint bruising from the cold fluids. Without thinking, Julian captured her chilled fingers between his warm palms, attempting to heat the invading liquid through sheer willpower.

He remained statue-still, watching over her with an intensity that would have unsettled anyone awake.

Much later, when Julian had finally dozed off against the bed rail, Claire's eyes fluttered open. Memories of the operating room flooded back - the agonizing transition from natural labor to emergency C-section, the paralyzing fear when they'd rushed her to surgery.

The cold steel table. The blinding lights. Her body shaking uncontrollably as medical jargon swirled around her.

Then Julian had burst in, still in his bloodstained shirt. He'd taken her trembling hand and whispered words that anchored her: "I'm right here. You're not alone."