Bought By Santa (Seasonal Obsessions #1)

Chapter 26

The Santa

I find myself pacing back and forth in front of the hospital, waiting for news about Jack. I could go inside, but I keep telling myself it’s best if I wait and talk to Sergei first.

The anxiety coiling in my chest tighter than a noose around my neck. Even from out here, the sterile scent of this damn hospital invades my senses, amplifying my unease. The Rolex on my wrist is driving me nuts, I swear I can hear the incessant tick, tick, tick.

“For fuck’s sake!” I roar, tearing it off and throwing it against the wall.

I can feel Carolina’s gaze on me, but I can’t bring myself to look at her just yet. My fears, my vulnerabilities, are on full display, and I can’t afford to show weakness. Not now. Not in front of her.

Finally, the doors slide open, and booted footsteps echo. I turn my head, my heart lodged in my throat, and my eyes lock with Sergei’s. “Nicklas!” Sergei exclaims, his voice rough with urgency and pain. “It was an ambush.”

My composure shatters like a dropped wine glass, and I stride toward him, my hands outstretched as if to steady myself. Carolina’s hand on my arm is my lifeline, her presence a comforting reminder.

“What happened?” I growl. “Tell me everything. Now!”

Sergei takes a deep breath, wincing as he speaks. “We were at the warehouse… I thought it was secure, I swear. But they were waiting for us. I… I don’t know how. I’m so sorry.”

“Focus,” I bark, my voice harsh. “How is Jack? Is he…” I can’t bring myself to finish the question.

“He’s alive… for now,” Sergei pauses, his gaze flickering to Carolina before returning to mine, “he’s been shot… multiple times. We were out-manned. I managed to get him in the car and drove us here as fast as I could.”

“It’s not your fault,” I cut him off, my nails digging into my palm so hard I think I break the skin. “How… how bad?”

Sergei hesitates, “He’s lost a lot of blood. Umm, they got him in his chest and abdomen. The bleeding… I don’t know, man. It was bad. Really fucking bad.”

“Where is he?” I demand, my voice a low growl.

“Inside with—”

“Show us,” I snap, already striding toward the entrance.

I barrel through the sliding doors of the hospital, Carolina’s hand tight in mine. The crisp scent of disinfectant hangs heavy in the air, but it’s the underlying hint of iron—the smell of blood—that has my stomach turning in knots. Not because I’m squeamish, but because it could be my brother’s.

Fuck!

Following Sergei, I barely look around until I spot Marco immediately. He’s a tower among men with his broad shoulders set like a barricade before the operating room.

“Room’s secure, boss. No one gets in or out without our say-so.” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it that tells me he’s ready for war.

“Good. Keep it that way,” I command, as I turn to look at Carolina. She’s a pillar of strength beside me, her resolve evident even in the gentle pressure she applies to my hand—a silent promise that she’s here with me, for every breath, every beat of my racing heart.

Time loses meaning as we wait. Doctors and nurses become blurs of white and blue as they rush in and out of the operating room. Each time the door swings open, my heart lurches, half-expecting the worst. Carolina’s touch, light on my forearm, is the only anchor keeping me tethered to sanity.

The voices are a cacophony of medical jargon, but beneath it all, there’s a current of determination that I can’t help but cling to. “He’s fighting,” I hear one nurse say, and something inside me clenches—because that’s what Knights do. We fight.

“Nicklas,” Carolina whispers, her voice slicing through the haze of my thoughts. Her eyes, usually so bright, now mirror the storm brewing within me. But it’s her unyielding stance, the way she faces this chaos head-on that fuels the fire in my chest. “Maybe we should move.”

“Fuck no,” I reply, letting her see the truth in my eyes—I’m not going anywhere. Not when my brother’s life hangs in the balance, and certainly not when she’s standing by my side, being my rock when I need it most.

“I just meant over there,” she says, pointing at a row of chairs lined against the wall. “So it’s easier for them to get in and out.”

Marco murmurs his agreement, assuring me he’s staying in position.

“Fine,” I grind out, letting her drag me over to the chairs. I pick the one closest, so when I crane my neck, I can still see the door Marco is guarding.

With each passing hour, the tension builds, wrapping around us like a vise.

As the night stretches on, I can’t sit still any longer and instead, I begin pacing the length of the hall. It must look ridiculous as I walk backwards, refusing to take my eyes off Carolina. She’s slumped in her chair, her head resting against the wall as she sleeps softly.

Suddenly, the doors burst open behind Marco.

The doctor’s grim face is the first thing I see as he approaches, and my heart hammers against my ribcage. The sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air as he stops in front of us, his expression unreadable.

“Mr. Knight?” His voice is steady, but there’s an undercurrent of urgency that sets me on edge.

“Tell me,” I demand, my throat tight with barely contained panic. At my words, Carolina startles awake. When her eyes find me, she jerks up from the chair and rushes to my side.

“Jack’s condition is severe,” the doctor begins, and Carolina’s hand finds mine, her grip like a lifeline. “He sustained multiple gunshot wounds. One bullet caused a cardiac arrest. We lost him for a minute on the table, but we brought him back. He’s stable now, but critical.”

Fuck! Dead even for a moment—it’s unthinkable. Fury and fear churn inside me, a storm ready to break free.

“Can we see him?” Carolina’s voice cuts through my haze of rage.

“Follow me.” The doctor turns on his heel, his white coat a blur as we trail behind him.

The room is a cacophony of beeping machines and flashing monitors, each one tracking the thread of life still tethered to Jack. Tubes snake from his body, and there’s a mechanical hiss with every labored breath he takes.

“Jesus, Jack,” I mutter, my voice a low growl. Looking at his pale face, too still and quiet, it’s like seeing a ghost. This isn’t the brother I know—the one full of fire and fight.

I feel Carolina’s eyes on me, but I can’t tear my gaze away from Jack. “Nicklas, he’s strong. He’ll pull through this,” she whispers, her voice a balm to the raw wound in my chest.

I nod, but I don’t trust myself to speak. My mind is a battlefield, thoughts of vengeance warring with the cold dread that’s settled in my bones.

“Look at me,” Carolina urges, and I finally turn to her. Her blue eyes are fierce, a challenge and a promise all at once. “We’re in this together, remember?”

“Forevermore,” I say, echoing our earlier vow. It’s not just about me anymore; it’s about us, about what we’re building together. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone tear that down.

“Good,” she says firmly. “All you need to do is focus on Jack getting better. He needs us to be strong for him. I’ll take care of everything else.”

She’s right. Jack needs me to be the immovable force I’ve always been. No matter what, I have to protect him, protect us. And when this is over, Carolina and I will have our family, our future—no matter the cost.

I can’t sit down. Can’t stay still. Everything’s too much and not enough at the same time. The people—my people since we’ve shut down this wing of the Knight owned hospital—walking around the halls annoy the shit out of me. Jack’s room is a cacophony of electronic beeps and sighs from machines that are keeping him alive. It is too depressing.

There’s nowhere for me to go.

Every time I leave Jack’s room, I come back within a few minutes. I know there are things for me to do, but I can’t seem to focus enough to actually do it.

I’m pulled from my thoughts as I hear Carolina’s voice ring out. I get up from the chair and stride into the hallway.

“Dr. Morris, I expect updates every hour.” Her voice slices through the chaos, sharp and commanding. I glance over, watching her confront the lead doctor. She’s a force to be reckoned with, her blonde hair like a halo in the harsh fluorescent light, her figure rigid with authority.

“Of course, Ms. Sterling,” the doctor replies, his eyes flicking nervously toward me.

“It’s Mrs. Knight,” she corrects him. “And good. I want an hourly update on the transfusion and everything else. Also, do you have enough blood on hand? Or do we need to look for donors?” she continues, her thoroughness surprising everyone in the room, me included.

“Absolutely, Mrs. Knight,” Dr. Morris assures her before scurrying off.

As soon as he’s gone, she turns to Marco. “Do you have an update for me?”

What the hell?

Marco steps up, his broad frame tense with unspoken questions. “We’ve secured all entrances and exits, no one gets in without clearance.”

Nodding, she places her hands on her hips. “Expand the perimeter. I want eyes on every floor, every ward. If someone so much as sneezes out of turn, I expect to know about it,” she orders, her gaze steely.

“Understood,” Marco acknowledges with a nod, a small smile grazing his lips.

Sergei leans against the wall, his face pale beneath the grime and blood. “Carolina, I—”

“No, I’m not discussing this with you again,” she admonishes, pointing at him. “You need to get yourself checked over. You could still have bullets inside you. Come on, Sergei.”

Their compliance fills me with an odd sense of pride. Carolina, my future wife; not only is she already demanding to be called Mrs. Knight, but the way she’s taking control is fucking hot. No wonder everyone is listening. It’s intoxicating, how she commands respect without question. How she fights for my family as fiercely as I do.

“Nick?” Her hand touches my arm, and I realize I’m shaking.

“I’m fine,” I lie through clenched teeth. My eyes are hot, the threat of tears an unwelcome weakness pressing behind my lids.

“Look at me,” she says gently. But I can’t. If I look at her now, everything inside me will crumble.

“Nicklas,” she insists, her tone brooking no argument. Reluctantly, I meet her gaze. There’s strength there, but also a softness that’s just for me. It’s a lifeline thrown into the raging sea of my emotions.

“Jack’s a fighter. He’s not going anywhere,” she states with conviction.

“Damn right he isn’t,” I manage to say, my voice hoarse. I’m holding on by a thread, and she’s the only thing keeping me stitched together.

“Let’s get some air. You need to breathe.” She tugs at my arm, guiding me away from Jack’s room, away from the blinking monitors.

“All I need is you, Hellcat,” I rasp.

“Come here,” she pulls me close, and I feel her lips press against mine. A surge of longing rushes through me, desire mingling with the pain and fear that’s been gnawing at my insides. Her mouth moves against mine, each kiss a brand, marking me as hers just as she’s mine.

The double doors swing open, a cold draft accompanying the arrival of more people. Dad walks with an indifference that chills my blood. Ruby trails behind him, her tears slicing through the silence of the hallway like a siren’s wail.

“Ruby.” Carolina releases my hand, stepping toward my sister with a softness that belies her steel core. It’s a contrast to the helpless rage that’s keeping me rooted to the spot.

“Carolina,” Ruby sobs, her usual composure as shattered as the family we’re scrambling to keep whole.

“Shh, it will be okay. We’re all here for Jack,” Carolina says, her arms wrapping around Ruby in a protective embrace. For a moment, I see a flicker of something like gratitude in Ruby’s tear-streaked face.

“Thank you,” Ruby murmurs, leaning into Carolina’s comfort. “For being… for being here for all of us.”

Carolina nods, pulling back to lock eyes with Ruby. “We’re family now. That’s what we do.”

Their exchange—a silent pact sealed in understanding and shared pain—cuts through the tension. My woman’s compassion is boundless, her spirit unyielding. It’s then that I know despite the darkness at our door, her light won’t be dimmed. Not by fear, not by grief.

“Let’s go check on Jack,” I suggest, feeling a resurgence of purpose.

“You two go,” Carolina says, gently pushing Ruby toward me. “I have a few more things to take care of.”

Fuck, how I love this woman.

We stay in the hospital for two days.

Ruby spends her time glued to Jack’s side, only leaving when Carolina orders her away. Usually it’s because the doctors need privacy, or when she’s trying to get my sister to eat or sleep.

Throughout the days, Carolina doesn’t falter once; she stays on top of everything and everyone. Masterfully arranging the security rotation with Marco so everyone can get at least a couple of hours of sleep. She even takes care of Sergei, who needed to have surgery as well, though his injuries weren’t fatal.

“Carolina?” I call, when I don’t immediately see her after I’ve dozed off in one of the chairs in Jack’s room.

“Here,” she confirms as she steps through the door. “Do you need anything?”

The black circles below her eyes tell me she hasn’t slept at all, which doesn’t surprise me. Even so, her eyes gleam with satisfaction, like only someone who’s thriving do. Maybe she is.

I yawn and stretch, pulling my phone out to check the time. Christ, it’s the middle of the goddamn night. As I look around, I notice Ruby sitting close by, her eyes droopy as though she’s seconds from falling asleep.

“Is Dad still around?” I ask, my mind reeling from the hushed conversations I’ve overheard between him and someone on the other end of his phone. There was something in his tone—a shifty unease I’ve never caught onto before. It pricks at my gut, a warning I can’t shake off.

“No,” she says. “He—”

“He got a call and had to leave.” I whip around at the sound of my brother’s croaked voice.

“You’re awake,” I state, not sure how I missed it when I woke up.

He nods. “I’m not sure I’m happy about that,” he grumbles with a wince. “Everything fucking hurts.”

I shoot him a grin as I approach. “That’s because you’re a fucking pussy.”

“I’d rather be fucking pussy,” he retorts, waggling his eyebrows.

Jack looks good, really good, actually. He’s no longer so pale he could have a white-off with the sheets, and his mood seems to be good. “It’s good to have you back,” I say, clasping his shoulder.

“I’ll go find you two some food,” Carolina calls out, and when I turn to look at her, she blows me a kiss before sashaying her fine ass out of here.

Jack groans, reminding me I’m still touching his shoulder. Not the injured one, luckily. “Hey,” he says, lowering his voice. “What the hell is Dad up to?”

Well fuck, if he’s noticed something is up while being barely awake, it’s worse than I first thought. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“He called me as Sergei and I were on our way to the warehouse. He…” Jack trails off, his brows furrowing like he’s deep in thought. “He wanted our ETA. And… he asked if you were with us. It’s… it makes no sense.”

No… that makes no sense at all since Dad has officially passed the reins on to me, so he shouldn’t be involved at all. But… what if he’s unofficially still knee-deep in our empire? Could he have… no, that’s a leap.

Dad might not… I mean… sure, he’s cold toward Jack, indifferent at times. But he’s still his son. So surely he wouldn’t… would he?

Whatever is going on, it only solidifies the need to make Carolina mine in every way that counts, and that means it’s time.

Time for her test.

I quickly send a text to Arthur, telling him I’m ready. I’m not, and I don’t think I’ll ever be. Not because of what it could cost me, but because of what I know it’ll do to my hellcat.

Despite the hour, the King answers within minutes, telling me everything is already waiting for us, and that he’ll be there right away.