Page 26 of Adonis: The Cost of a Billionaire's Heart
I made sure my presence remained fixed behind her, feeling the warmth of her body heat against the crisp morning air. “Go on,” I encouraged, taking half a step back to give her some room, but not too much so that she felt alone. “Hit that shit.”
She did—nervously, but with a strength that surprised us both. The small golf ball lifted into the air, not high, not precisely aligned with the hole, but far better than either of us expected for her first try.
A satisfied smile stretched across my lips. “That was pretty good for your first time.”
Sim turned to face me, arching a questioning brow. “Just pretty good? I’m feeling like a baby Tiger Woods right now.”
“I don’t know about all that. Your swing isn’t as good as your pancakes, but practice makes perfect. You’ll get there,” I acknowledged with a playful wink and a smirk.
She was barely able to savor the taste of her first victory on the golf course when Maya let out an ear-piercing scream from about twenty feet away. The shrill terror in her voice sent ice through my veins.
“Mason collapsed!” she screamed. “Help! Call nine-one-one. He’s burning up and I—I don’t know what to do!”
Time slowed to a snail’s pace. The only thing loud enough to drown out all the screaming was the sound of my pulse pounding inside my eardrums. Before Simora could string together words to form a sentence, she broke out into a sprint, racing toward him. I was right there with her, just as eager as she was to get to him and fix the problem.
“M-Mason!” Simora choked out, crashing to her knees at his side. “Somebody call the fucking ambulance!”
Her presence, once nervous and demure, had transformed into something more primal, more mothering, in the blink of an eye. With my phone in hand, I was barking orders into the receiver before the country club workers had a chance to budge.
“I need paramedics to the Greystone Country Club right now. I have an unresponsive four-year-old child with a high fever,” I explained, leaving no room for disagreement. My voice was sharp and more controlled than I felt, but I didn’t have time to think about that.
By the time we arrived at the front of the country club, the ambulance had pulled up—red and white flashing lights, sirens, and professional EMTs at the ready. Within minutes, Mason was given oxygen and was loaded into the back of the ambulance for transport to the hospital for more tests. I took charge, speaking directly to the medical staff to inform them of the incident alongside Maya, who was just as much of a nervous wreck as Simora was. I had my driver, Richards, escort Maya back to the penthouse to calm down while I rode in the back of the ambulance with Sim and Mason. Simora looked as if she couldbarely breathe, but I never faltered. My hand remained stationed at her lower back, guiding her forward, ensuring she didn’t faint amid all the pandemonium.
As we sped toward the emergency room, she trembled like a leaf on a tree. Still, I didn’t let her go. Something inside me wouldn’t. In that moment, I realized I hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to Ellis or his wife. The only two things I cared about were ensuring Mason got the medical attention he required and that his mother knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
The emergency room was a haze of fluorescent lights and the sound of rushed footsteps across the vinyl floor. I wasn’t sure if either Sim or I understood what the doctors were saying before they rushed Mason to the back for testing.
Simora and I sat in the waiting area. She gripped my arm as if it were her only salvation. I knew she was doing her best to control the anxiety bouncing around inside her chest, but her spine remained frozen and her breath jagged.
I didn’t let her go.
I spoke with the medical staff with the same commanding authority I did in my business meetings, making sure to ask the right questions and demand correct, well thought-out answers. If Mason wasn’t in the hands of the most skilled specialists in New York, then I planned to take him to them or fly them to us.
Still, I never let her go.
Instead, I knelt in front of her and placed my hands over hers for comfort. “Mason is going to be alright. Right now, they’re just taking all the necessary precautions.”
She nodded while wiping tears from her eyes. I recognized the terror eating away at her heart. The fear of the unknown was like a lingering pain in her bones that she couldn’t shake.
The hours stretched agonizingly slow, but finally, I recognized one of the doctors I’d spoken to when we first arrived emerging from down the hall.
“Parents of Mason Campbell?” Doctor Friedman asked.
“Right here,” Simora acknowledged, jumping up to her feet, her knees still weak.
“Good news, Mason’s fever is responding well to treatment,” he guaranteed us. “We’re still running a few more tests to confirm the cause, but for right now, he’s stable and doing well.”
“Can you tell if this had anything to do with his asthma?” Sim probed.
“From what I can tell, no. It likely seems to be an upper respiratory tract infection that will go away on its own, but his asthma does make him more susceptible to getting respiratory infections. I recommend a lot of rest and oral fluids.”
“So, can we take him home tonight?” I interjected.
The doctor nodded. “Yes. I have my nurse working on the discharge papers as we speak. In the meantime, you all are welcome to go back and see him.”
“Thank you, Doctor Freidman.”
Simora took one step forward before turning around and throwing her arms around me. I hugged her tightly and for much longer than I should’ve. I still didn’t want to let her go. Holding Sim in my arms felt natural, more than anything had in a long time.
