Page 40 of My Cruel Billionaire

The surgeon puffed his chest out a little bit. He’d just been handed a chance to talk about his job.

“I believe that the surgery went very well. There was a bit more bleeding than anticipated due to a higher vascular development in your mother’s endocrine system than expected, but it was easily controlled and the surgery proceeded on schedule…”

He droned on for a good while. From the sound of it, he believed that the surgery was a resounding success. That was good enough for me.

“Her condition is stable,” the doctor continued.

“Can we see Gramma, Mom?” Damon asked.

Michael looked up at the doctor. “How about it, Doc? When can she have visitors again?”

The doctor’s face creased into a worried frown.

“I’m not sure that any visitors are a good idea at this time, at least for a few days. For one thing, she will be on a large amount of painkillers and likely not conscious or lucid for the brief instances that she is.”

“Keep us apprised if that should change,” Michael said.

“Of course. Right now, we would rather avoid contact with her family to avoid possible biological contamination and to lower the patient’s anxiety overall.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

The screen went dark, and Michael immediately got on his phone.

“Steve? Let’s go ahead and inform the marketing department that the implant was a success. Yes, we can use this as part of our marketing, but keep the personal details out of it. In fact, let’s diversify it and have the actor portrayals be open to interpretation. That’s all I called you for, Steve. You work for me, so deal with it. I’m hanging up now.”

He put the phone away and scowled for a moment before Damon tugged on his pants leg. Michael frowned, and stared down at Damon.

“What’s wrong, little guy?” he asked in a softer tone than I would have expected.

“I’m tired.”

Michael nodded and tousled Damon’s hair.

“I’ll just bet you are. It’s been a big couple of days for you, hasn’t it, Damon? Don’t worry, I’ll find a place for you and your mom to sleep.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “No, we should just head home.”

“It’s almost midnight, Jenna, and you’re both exhausted. You can just crash here tonight.”

“I’m so wired I don’t know if I can sleep or not.”

“Well, Damon can. He’s practically falling asleep standing up. We can put him in my bed.”

I sighed and nodded.

“All right.”

I got up and carried Damon into the bedroom. I knew the way, and hadn’t had to ask for directions, a fact of which both Michael and I were keenly aware.

Michael’s bedroom was like something out of a storybook. He had a fantastic view looking out on the city, and the ocean beyond. The bedroom had plenty of room for his four-poster bed, carved of a rich, dark red wood and glazed to a sheen. A divan and daybed created a little lounge area beside a half bar stocked like a full bar. If that wasn't enough, the sliding glass door on the west side led to a terrace balcony with a hot tub.

I ignored the opulence of the room and laid my son down on the silken sheets.

“This is comfy,” he said, settling in with a sigh. “Hey, Mom?”

I tucked him in and reached for the lamp.

“What is it, sweetie?”

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