Sylvester POV

The moment the hospital doors slid shut behind me, my composure shattered.

I stalked toward my car like a man walking to an execution—except I was the executioner. My jaw ached from how tightly it was clenched, my chest burning with a rage so volatile it demanded release. Ethan’s face replayed in my mind on a vicious loop. The defiance in his eyes. The way his hands had trembled—not with fear, but with restraint.

Restraint.

That was what cut the deepest.

I ...