Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 492

Chapter 492: The Most Important Woman

The ICU doors opened with that pneumatic hiss hospitals loved, and Linda Carter emerged looking exactly how she always did after twelve-hour shifts—exhausted but somehow still put together in ways that defied logic.

Even after twelve hours in the ICU, even with her dark hair slightly messy from being under a surgical cap, even with scrubs that were probably stained with god-knows-what, Mom was... objectively gorgeous.

Not in the way my women were—not that calculated, tendered beauty that came from money and genetics and effort. This was different. Natural. The kind of beautiful that made other nurses look plain by comparison, that made doctors do double-takes, that had probably caused more than a few patients to develop inappropriate crushes on their ICU nurse.

She looked like she was in her early twenties. Flawless skin that showed minimal aging despite the stress of single motherhood and impossible shifts. High cheekbones, full lips, expressive eyes that were currently scanning the waiting room. Body that scrubs somehow made more noticeable instead of hiding—curves in all the right places, the kind of figure that made you understand why some men became problems she had to professionally shut down.

She had a tablet in one hand, a stethoscope around her neck, reading glasses perched on top of her head, a pen stuck behind her ear. The full nurse loadout. Professional. Capable. The kind of woman who commanded respect in a hospital setting and got it.

She was the most beautiful, awe-strucking woman.

Then she saw me.

Everything changed. Her whole face transformed—exhaustion melting into pure joy, those expressive eyes going wide and bright, smile spreading until it looked like it might split her face. The tablet almost slipped from her hand.

"Peter? Baby, what are you doing here?"

She didn’t even look at what she was holding. Just turned immediately to the nurses’ station, walked over in quick steps, and set the tablet down without ceremony. Pulled the stethoscope from around her neck and dropped it on the counter. Reading glasses followed, then the pen. Just discarding everything—all the professional equipment, all the work stuff, all of it becoming immediately irrelevant.

For me.

I stood, her jacket still draped over my arm. "Came to pick you up."

"You came here?" She was moving toward me now, quick steps that said she wanted to run but remembered she was at work. "It’s almost one in the morning, you should be sleeping—"

Then she was hugging me. Just throwing her arms around me and pulling me close with that specific mom-strength somehow still having energy to hold her kids when they needed it.

And fuck, I needed it.

My arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her in tight, feeling her warmth seep through my jacket and shirt, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, smelling that combination of hospital antiseptic and her drugstore lotion and something underneath that was just her. My whole body relaxed in ways I hadn’t realized I was tense—shoulders dropping, jaw unclenching, that constant strategic thinking in my head finally shutting the fuck up.

"I missed you," I said into her hair, voice rougher than I intended. Raw. Honest. "Just... really fucking missed you, Mom."

She pulled back just enough to look at me, hands coming up to cup my face. "Language," she said automatically, but her eyes were soft, understanding in ways that made my chest tight. "You okay, baby? You look tired."

"I’m fine. Better now." I pulled her jacket off my arm, held it open. "Here. It’s cold."

"Peter, that’s your—"

"It’s yours. You always steal it anyway." I wrapped it around her shoulders, helped her slide her arms through sleeves that were too long, watched the leather engulf her smaller frame. It was huge on her—hanging past her hips, sleeves covering her hands—but somehow it looked right.

Looked like protection.

Like shielding her from everything that wanted to hurt her.

She pulled it tighter around herself, sighing at the warmth. "God, that’s better. The hospital keeps it freezing, I swear they’re trying to preserve us along with the medications."

My hands found her arms through the jacket, holding her steady. Protective. Almost possessive in a way that should’ve been weird but felt natural. The way I always held her in public—close enough to intervene if needed, positioned so I was between her and potential threats, aware of everyone watching us.

"We ALL think he’s hot. There is no living human like him. Don’t pretend you weren’t staring."

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