Chapter 223: You Two Are Getting Married

Fidora let out a quiet breath, but she didn’t refute her husband’s words. She looked at our joined hands, then at her son’s resolute expression, understanding completely that while she had secured her corporate heir, she held no power over his heart.

Fidora turned her sharp, calculating gaze toward Marina, then flicked her eyes back down to the heavy cast encasing my left leg.

"When is his leg going to get better?" Fidora asked, her tone crisp and practical, as if she were inquiring about a supply chain delay rather than a human recovery.

Marina stepped forward, her posture rigid and her eyes narrowing slightly at the coldness of the question. "The doctor said in about a week he should be fine to leave the hospital. But that doesn’t mean it will be completely healed. Kain will need to see a specialist for intensive rehab and rely on crutches for a while."

Fidora made a quick, silent mental calculation, her chin lifting slightly. "So... two to three weeks until he’s mobile."

"Yes," Marina replied cautiously, her voice laced with a protective edge. "Probably."

Fidora shifted her gaze to her son, eyeing the sling binding his left shoulder and the fatigue etched into his face.

"Then I assume Reid’s shoulder isn’t so serious that it will take more than two weeks to heal either." She paused, smoothing the front of her cream coat with slow, deliberate precision before delivering her next words. "So why don’t we do this? You two are getting married... in three weeks."

The room seemed to drop a few degrees.

I blinked, processing the sudden, swift timeline, while Reid’s grip on my hand tightened, his jaw setting into a hard line. Before either of us could speak, Fidora raised a manicured hand, cutting off any potential objection before it could take form.

"Don’t worry," Fidora continued seamlessly, her voice smooth, authoritative, and utterly unbothered by our silence. "Everything on our end has already been finalized. The press strategy, the security protocols, the confidentiality agreements—all signed and locked tight. All that’s left is for you two to legally marry and for Reid to start putting his life in order."

She turned her full attention to Reid, her dark eyes locking onto her son with an unyielding intensity.

"It is high time you step into the family business," she said, her tone leaving zero room for debate. "In three weeks, the wedding takes place. And immediately after, I will personally begin teaching you the ropes of the McCoy empire."

"I don’t think this marriage is for you to decide," Marina said, her voice dropping into a dangerously quiet register as her eyes narrowed to slits.

Fidora slowly turned her head, her gaze resting on my sister with an icy, unbothered detachment. She didn’t flinch. She simply tilted her head, her eyebrows rising in a subtle, cutting display of arrogance.

"Well," Fidora replied smoothly, "would you prefer your brother and my son take all the time they need, and only make up their minds when his baby bump starts to show?"

The words hit the room like a sudden drop in temperature.

Instinctively, my hand moved beneath the thermal blanket, my fingers resting flat against my lower stomach in a silent, protective gesture.

"Mother," Reid called out, his deep voice carrying a sharp, dangerous edge that snapped through the quiet suite.

Even though he had been calm and silent until now, it didn’t mean he had suddenly become her puppet. His grey eyes blazed with a cold, terrifying fire as he glared at her, his broad shoulders tensing beneath his sling.

"Don’t rush us," he hissed through clenched teeth, the Alpha warning in his voice impossible to mistake.

Fidora looked at her son, her expression unreadable as she took in his bared teeth and wild, defensive posture. A faint, knowing smirk touched the corner of her lips.

"Your call, Reid," Fidora murmured softly, smoothing her glove over her wrist without taking her eyes off him. "You choose the timeline. Just remember that the world won’t wait for your convenience."

Brad stepped in smoothly before the air in the room could curdle completely. He moved between his wife and the bed, his gentle Alpha presence aura softening the sharp edges Fidora had drawn across the suite.

"That’s enough for today, honey," Brad said, his voice quiet, low, and laced with a rare, absolute authority that made his wife pause. He turned to look at Reid, then at me, offering a warm, reassuring nod. "Take the time you need to heal, boys. We’ll handle the noise outside."

Fidora didn’t argue with her husband, though her sharp eyes swept over our joined hands one last time.

"We will be waiting for your answer, Reid," she said plainly, before turning on her heel and heading toward the door. Brad gave my sister a polite, respectful bow of his head, murmuring a soft apology to Marina before following his wife out into the corridor.

The moment the door clicked shut, the oppressive weight in the room evaporated.

Marina let out a long, furious breath, crossing her arms over her chest as she paced toward the window.

"The nerve of that woman," she muttered, though her tone held more protective anger than genuine surprise. "Coming in here and trying to dictate your life after everything you’ve already sacrificed."

"She won’t dictate anything," Reid said, his voice deep, rough, and completely immovable.

He turned back to me, his dark grey eyes softening instantly as the dangerous flare in his gaze melted away. His uninjured hand reached up, gently covering mine where it still rested protectively against my lower stomach.

I looked down at our hands, feeling the heat of his palm seeping through the blanket. Three weeks sounded terrifyingly fast—a sudden dive from one storm straight into another. But as I looked up into Reid’s steady, devoted face, the tightness in my chest began to loosen.

"Three weeks or three months... it doesn’t change anything for us, does it?" I murmured softly, my thumb stroking the side of his wrist.

A faint, breathtakingly tender smile touched Reid’s lips. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his warm breath fanning across my cheeks.

"Not a single thing, Cap," Reid whispered. "Whenever you’re ready, I’m already yours."