A favour

ADAM'S POV

Eight hours flying and thirty minutes trying to get the airport paparazzi out of my way, I sat in my Audi, speeding down the lanes of New York. I was jet lag as hell. My eyes were heavy and my head had this damned ringing sound that made it so damn unbearable to think.

But I couldn't stop.

I had to see Mother as soon as possible.

Oh she must be so scared. Anabelle would've cried her eyes out, worried to death. I had spent the entire flight, thinking about the possible reasons why my mother could have suffered a heart attack, but I couldn't come up with one.

Not one.

She had a nurse who tended to her. A cook who was supposed to tend to her but Mother was too damned stubborn for her own good and could still insist on making her own meals. I could imagine her green eyes flashing in anger whenever the cook tried to get her out of the kitchen.

Could that be what made her sick? Had she stressed herself beyond her limits? Fuck! I hit the steering wheel, trying to vent my frustration. I hated feeling so damned helpless.

When her heart condition started, I had all of registered myself in med school so I could become a doctor and take care of her myself! It had taken Sally, mother and Anabelle to convince me not to follow through with it.

Now I wish I did.

I would not be stuck depending on some other man to take care of my mother. I would do it myself. And I sure as hell would make sure I do a good job of it.

I swerved sharply at a turning that led to the hospital. The traffic on the streets grew denser, slowing me down much to my frustration. My phone buzzed in the phone holder attached to my dashboard and I tapped the ear piece attached to my ear.

"Anabelle," I mumbled.

"Are you here?" She asked, her voice soft as she spoke. She no longer sounded terrified. And that was a fucking relief. It meant mom was safe, for now.

"In a minute," I grumbled, slamming the steering wheel, beeping loudly at other cars. Fuck! Why couldn't they get their fucking excuse for cars off the damned road! The sooner I got to seeing my mother, the quicker I could fix whatever mess, whatever problem she had.

"Okay, mom just wanted to confirm," Anabelle replied ..

"She's awake?" I asked. Kicking up the engine when the cars before me picked up the pace. I stepped on the accelerator, charging through the road, trying to get to the hospital as fast as possible.

"Yeah," My sister mumbled. "And she keeps calling me.out,"

I chuckled lightly. That sounded a lot like mother. Once she was fine, she was as spunky as ever. I was definitely going to get an earful when I got to the hospital. She would most likely tease me for being all worried about her.

As if I ought not to be.

She was all I and Anabelle had. I could not lose her. I would not allow it. If I had to wrestle death, I fucking would.

"Why?" I asked, swerving into the parking lot of the hospital.

"She keeps saying I shouldn't have called you! And that I'm a cry baby!"

"Well she's not wrong," I mumbled, finding the perfect place to park.

"Adam!"

"Sorry buttercup. See you in a bit,"

"Thank God," She sighed dramatically and I snorted, turning down the ignition.

Peterson and Co was a family clinic we used and the doctors there had proved themselves useful countless of times when it came to my mother. I didn't care if they did it because it was their job, or because of the huge ass donation I made there every month. As long as my mother got the optimum treatment. I was good.

I grabbed my phone, shoved it in my pocket before stepping out of the car. Ensuring it was locked, I walked through the hallways of the hospital.

The smell of disinfectant filled my nose and my lips curled in disgust. I fucking hated hospitals. The thought of being sick and losing out on meetings and events that would ensure the constant flow of income made me feel irritated. I hated being sick. I hated losing money even more.

The workers stopped whatever shit it was that they were doing to stare as I navigated the clinic and a few nurses giggled here and there. None of them held a candle to the siren that had captivated my head in France.

I couldn't fucking forget Eve. Even now, as my heart pounded wildly in my chest while I searched for my mother, terrified at the possibility of losing her, I still found myself subconsciously thinking about Eve.

Ignoring the gasps that exploded around me, I marched down towards the VIP ward. It was the only room in the entire hospital that was reserved and reserved only for my mother. No one else could use it. Not even the fucking president in all his glory.

I threw the door open without a moment of hesitation and took in the scene before me.

My mother sat up on her bed, her back against the recliner. Her sweet green eyes brightened up once they saw me and a smile lit up her round face. Wrinkles, small and fine, lined the corner of her eyes and mouth, as she stared at me. Her hair, a salt and pepper

Standing beside her was my sister, Anabelle. She had inherited mother's expressive green eyes and Dad's blonde hair. I, on the other hand, had taken every feature I had off the bastard who fathered me.

She had done something with her pretty blonde hair though. It had been cut short, into an annoying looking bob. Her hair used to be so lustrous and long when she was younger. I had no idea what had possessed Anabelle into cutting it off.

She looked as grumpy as ever in her... Clothes? Was that what it was called? A short flimsy outfit that ended barely above her knees. It looked like someone had grabbed a jumpsuit and then hacked off its long legs to give rise to shorts.

"Mother," I called, drawing my eyes away from Anabelle. I would deal with her dressing later. For now, all that mattered was my mother. I approached her with quick strides, settling at her side.

"Adam!" She smiled sweetly, her face brightening. "You're here,"

"I am," I grunted, taking her hands. "What happened? Are you hurt? Where does it hurt? Did the doctor attend to you? What did he say? What-"

"Okay slow down," Mother said, shaking her head slowly as if I was a damned nut case.

"I cannot slow down," I hissed. "I had spent eight hours confined in that plane, thinking of what I possibly did wrong! Why did another heart attack happen?".

"Maybe she'll talk to you," Anabelle mumbled, walking to my side. She weaved her arm into my elbow, looking up at me with teary eyes.

"I was so scared. One minute we were talking about the puppies down St Patrick's street, the next minute, she's gasping for air and holding her chest like someone just pierced her right through it! I was so scared Adam!"

"Shhh," I consoled, pulling her into.my arms and stroking her hair gently. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm here now. It'll be okay,"

"I'm fine now," Mother protested weakly and I arched my brow.

"That was what you said three weeks ago, and yet here we are," I grumbled, releasing Anabelle and pulling my mom into a hug. She gave a wistful sigh as if I were being too dramatic and tsked.

"Anyone seeing you two would think I almost died,"

"You almost died!" Anabelle snapped. "Quit downplaying it Mom! I could swear you were a little bit blue around the edges!"

"Okay now you're being theatrical," Mother said, rolling her eyes at Anabelle's words.

"She is not," I said, pulling my face into a frown. "Have you been overworking yourself? I told you to stop trying to do complicated shit yourself!"

"Define complicated," My mother said sheepishly.

"Mother!" I hadn't meant to yell, but I was appalled. She made it seem like having a heart attack wasn't a damned big deal when I had nearly shit my pants when Anabelle called.

"I'm okay," She defended, waving me off. Her green eyes were slightly unfocused when she did. I snapped my fingers in her face, wondering what she was thinking about. She blinked, gave me a small smile and tilted her head. "How was Paris?"

"Good," I replied curtly. I hadn't rushed all the way down to New York to discuss how Paris was with her. I had come to make sure she was truly fine. Not just fine. But truly fine. "I should go see the doctor. He should have a better explanation for this."

"Before you go son," Mother said, clasping her hand tightly over mine. She stared up at me, her eyes searching for and finding mine. I frowned. Something was up. "I have a favor to ask."

My brows shot up in question. A favor? Why, all she had to do was ask. She owed me no Favour. If she wanted the fucking moon, I would grab it and hand it over without so much as a blink. Yet with the severe look on her face, she looked rager serious about this 'favor'.

"What is this favor?" My brows furrowed.

** ** **

Happy new February!!!😍

Last time I was here, I was at 55k, look who is at 117k reads!🥳🥳 Thank you so much, readers!🥰

Meanwhile, what favour could Adam's mother require of him? And why do I seem to adore the relationship between Adam and his sister - Annabelle?😅