Hitched & Hitched Again: A Comedy of Marital Mayhem novel Chapter 1228

After breakfast, Tarquin’s phone suddenly rang—it was Benjamin.

“Verity’s illegitimate son,” Benjamin said, his voice low and urgent. “His condition’s gotten worse. Honestly, I don’t think he’s going to make it.”

Tarquin’s heart sank. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.

If this virus could do more than just give people a nasty cold—if it could actually kill someone—then things were a whole lot more serious than they’d thought.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, took a moment, then pocketed his phone and turned to Elysia.

“Hey, why don’t you just relax here at home today? If you need anything, just call me. I have to step out for a bit.”

Elysia could see the worry etched on his face. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

Tarquin forced a small smile. “It’s just work stuff. Nothing for you to worry about, and don’t stress about Dad either. I’ll handle everything. You just get some rest, alright?”

He leaned down, kissed her forehead, and tucked the blanket more securely around her before heading out.

Downstairs, he found Clayton and asked about the day’s plans.

Clayton, always thoughtful, didn’t want the whole family hanging around the house and disturbing Elysia’s rest, so he had planned to take Pamela and the kids out for a walk—maybe to the park or for some ice cream.

Tarquin quickly arranged for a couple of guys to keep a discreet eye on them, just in case.

With everything at home squared away, he drove straight to the hospital.

Benjamin was out of quarantine now, but his face was drawn and grim.

“It doesn’t look good,” he said, voice heavy.

Tarquin jammed one hand in his pocket and peered through the glass window into the hospital room.

Verity’s son lay in bed, hooked up to more machines than Tarquin could count, the monitors beeping erratically, as if life itself might just slip away at any moment.

Benjamin spoke quietly. “His organs are shutting down. His liver looks like it belongs to someone in their eighties.”

Tarquin frowned. “Is it the virus?”

Or they went after the source—find whoever was behind it all, and stop the virus at its root.

Neither option was going to be easy.

Benjamin’s jaw tightened. “Whoever’s behind this, and Zane too—they’re monsters. Putting the whole world at risk, just to make a buck. Don’t they worry about karma catching up to them?”

Tarquin’s frown deepened, his mind racing with worry.

Benjamin asked, “Any luck figuring out who this ‘mystery man’ is?”

Tarquin didn’t answer, just shot him a look. Instead, he asked, “How long does he have?”

Benjamin glanced back at the patient. “Could be months. Could be just a few days. It’s impossible to say.”

“Keep me posted if anything changes.”

With that, Tarquin left the hospital, slid into the driver’s seat of his car, and lit a cigarette. Then another. And another. The more he thought about the mystery man and the virus, the heavier his chest felt, as if a boulder was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.