The worst part was knowing he destroyed it himself. He had begged. Apologized. Tried everything. But Amara no longer looked at him the same way. Not with love. Not even with anger anymore sometimes.

Just disappointment. And that hurt far more than hatred ever could. At one point, Seb truly believed he could let her go. He tried. He told himself she was happier with Julian. Safer. Loved properly.

But no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t do it. Because somewhere along the way, loving Amara had stopped being a choice for him. And now he didn’t know how to live without her anymore.

"Daddy... can we go home now?" Seren’s small voice pulled Seb back to the present immediately. She looked up at him with tired eyes, clutching the stuffed bunny against her chest.

"I want to see Mummy." The innocent request tightened something painfully inside him. Seb glanced toward the door quietly before looking back at her.

"Alright, princess." He stood up immediately and looked toward the nurse nearby. "Get a wheelchair for her." The nurse looked alarmed instantly.

"Sir, she shouldn’t be moving yet," she said carefully. "Her condition is still unstable, and the doctor specifically warned against..."

"Just to the end of the hall," Seb interrupted calmly. The nurse hesitated. "She won’t be long." His tone remained polite. But firm enough that she knew arguing further would go nowhere.

"...Okay, sir." A few minutes later, the nurse returned with a wheelchair. Seb carefully lifted Seren into his arms first. The little girl wrapped weak arms around his neck while resting her head against his shoulder. Even now, she still looked fragile.

Too fragile. Seb gently placed her into the wheelchair before covering her legs with a blanket. "You comfortable?" he asked softly. Seren nodded immediately. "Yes."

Then excitedly. "Will Mummy be happy to see me?" Seb’s hands paused briefly on the wheelchair handles.

"...Very happy." And for the first time all night, he truly meant it. Slowly, he pushed the wheelchair out into the hallway. The east wing remained heavily guarded.

Men in black suits stood near elevators, stairways, and every possible entrance. Nurses walked carefully around them while whispering quietly among themselves.

It looked less like a hospital floor now and more like a protected government building. Seren’s eyes widened.

"Daddy..." she whispered. "Why are there so many people?" Seb gave a faint, dry smile.

"Because your mummy’s brother is a very dramatic man." Seren giggled softly at that. The sound made Seb’s chest ache unexpectedly. He had missed hearing her laugh.

As they reached the end of the hall where Amara’s room was located, the guards immediately straightened. Then two of them stepped forward directly in front of the wheelchair.

"Sir, you can’t enter." Seb stopped slowly. The irritation returned instantly to his face.

"You people are really overdoing this," he said coldly. "Only because I’ve been calm so far." The guards remained unmoved.

"Our daughter wants to see her mother," Seb added sharply. "Move." But neither guard budged. One of them spoke carefully.

"Mr. Vale gave strict instructions." Seb let out a humorless laugh. "Of course he did." Behind him, Seren looked confused by the tension.

"Daddy...?" Seb’s jaw tightened. Then suddenly, the hospital room door opened. Julian stepped out.

His eyes immediately landed on Seren in the wheelchair. And for a brief second. Even he looked shaken again, seeing the little girl alive so close to him. Seren brightened instantly. The little girl looked pale beneath the hospital lights, clutching her stuffed bunny while blinking sleepily toward the closed room door behind the guards.

Julian’s expression immediately hardened. "What is it now, Sebastian?" he asked tiredly. Seb rested both hands on the wheelchair handles."Seren wants to meet her mother."

Julian’s eyes slowly moved toward the child. For a second, all the anger inside him quieted slightly. Because no matter what had happened... No matter how much damage surrounded this entire situation...

Seren was still just a child. A child who had been manipulated by adults. A child who nearly died. A child who woke up believing the world she remembered still existed. Julian slowly exhaled. When he spoke again, his voice softened slightly because of her.

"Amara isn’t well right now," he said gently. "She’s resting." He gave Seren a small, reassuring look. "Maybe you can see her later." Seren’s face immediately fell with disappointment. Before she could speak, Seb scoffed.

"That’s bullshit." Julian’s eyes snapped back toward him instantly. "You can go in there whenever you want," Seb continued coldly. "So why can’t she see her mother?" For one dangerous second, Julian nearly lost control.

He wanted to say it. Because that child is not Amara’s. The words burned at the back of his throat. But he stopped himself. Not in front of Seren. Never in front of her. Julian clenched his jaw tightly before stepping closer toward Seb. "Come here."

His tone left no room for argument. Seb narrowed his eyes but followed after Julian anyway when he pulled him aside, not violently, but firm enough to make his meaning clear.

They stopped near the far corner of the hallway, away from Seren’s hearing range. The guards remained nearby, watching carefully. Julian turned sharply toward him.

"You need to stop this nonsense," he said in a low voice. "Stop trying to use Seren against Amara and me." Seb’s expression darkened immediately. "I’m not using anyone."

"Yes, you are."

"Seren is Amara’s daughter," Seb shot back instantly. "Maybe not by blood, but Amara raised her. She accepted her. Loved her." His voice became firmer. "So no, I’m only trying to let my daughter see her mother." Julian stared at him coldly.

"You really expect me to believe that?" he asked quietly. "After everything?" Seb looked genuinely offended now. "You think I’m doing what Elara did?" Julian stepped closer.

"You want me to forget how Seren was poisoned against Amara?" he asked sharply. "How she was manipulated into hurting her?" A flicker of guilt crossed Seb’s face. But only briefly.