Kiera's POV

And once again, I am drowning.

But this time, it feels different. It's warmer in here, and no matter how deep it seems, my body never hits the ground. I see those eyes again, their intensity finding its way deep into my bones.

My lips move at the same time as my hands. I try to reach out, to touch them. But they slip away from my grasp, slowly until they fade into oblivion.

This is when the smell seeps through. That familiar smell of antiseptic alerts me to where I am. Blinding lights bit into my eyes the minute I pull them open, and at once, I remember how I got here in the first place.

The screeching sound when I walked into the road, the driver hitting the brakes, my heart giving out inside me.

Alex.

I try to get up, panic coursing through every fibre of my being. I look around frantically, the white walls meaning nothing to me. I still think my husband is going to come out of nowhere to finish what he started.

He is going to harm my baby, and I won't be able to do a thing about it.

I need to leave.

And I need to do that now.

My hand moves to the drop attached to my other hand, but just as I start to pull it out, the door pushes open, and a doctor walks in. He halts for a second at the door, his eyes taking in the scene, before his feet start moving again.

"What are you doing, Miss?" He asks, wrapping his firm hands around mine and pulling them apart.

"I need to leave," I wail, fighting hard against his grip. I use my body, my feet, my eyes...but he doesn't budge.

"You can't," he says with such calmness that I begin to feel like I am running insane. "Just... relax, okay? I need your name."

I shake my head insistently, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. "He is going to find me, don't you get it? He is going to harm my baby."

When the door opens again, I almost rip the needle out of my arm, but a temporary relief washes through me when I see that it is just another doctor. He seems to be the senior around here, taking over from the one who first walked in.

"Miss," he begins in that same calm tone. "I am going to need you to take a deep breath if you don't want to be knocked unconscious this minute."

That has to be a violation of ethics, but something about the way he says it has my raging breath calming immediately. I take in gulps of air, my chest rising and falling, the flush on my face evening out.

He angles his head, before his eyes stray to the needle, slightly poking out of my skin.

The doctor turns to the other one. "Get me a pair of latex gloves, please."

"Where is Alex?" I breathe when it is just us both in the room. "Did he ask you to keep me here? Did he tell you I am running insane?"

He leans closer, looking into my eyes. His gaze narrows before he pulls away, retrieving a folder by the side of the bed. "And who might Alex be?"

I stop, realizing for the first time that this isn't the hospital Alex usually brings me to after beating me up. It's bigger and from the bed, I can take in the view beyond the balcony. There is a waterfall a distance away, and the sound of the water carries through the space.

It's not something Alex or Lara can afford.

"Where am I?"

"The hospital." He pushes the folder back and turns to look at me. "You were brought in last night after an accident. Luckily, you weren't hit by the car, but the shock made you pass out."

My lips fall open, but nothing comes out. He takes it as a cue to proceed.

"We had to keep you sedated because you looked like you were under pressure and your body needed rest, especially for your baby."

My baby.

My hands fly to my stomach immediately, feeling much better that nothing happened to it.

"Who brought me in?" My quiet voice creates such contrast with the way I sounded earlier when I thought Alex was around.

The doctor remains silent for a minute before his lips move again. "He prefers to remain anonymous," he says, clasping his hands in front of him. "However, he did ensure that you were given the best medical attention."

Confusion etches in my future as I try to sit up again. "How ... why?" This has to be a private ward.

The other doctor returns with the gloves. "Someone named Lara is outside. She says she is the patient's aunt."

My panic returns, eyes shooting wide open. I should have known this wasn't going to last long.

***

Lara pulls up in the driveway in front of her house, and the silence of the engine sounds deafening. She takes her time pulling the key out of the ignition before turning around to face me.

"You reported Alex to the police." It is the first time she has spoken to me since she got to the hospital, and I made her wait out there for hours. "Why?"

I bite my bottom lip, trying to stop it from quivering. It has been years now. I can't believe Lara still frightens me.

"He hit me," I manage to say, my voice coming out as a whimper. "He deserves to rot in jail."

When I look back into the car, my aunt's knuckles have tightened into fists on her lap, and her eyes glare daggers at me.

"You should count yourself lucky that I have guests inside," she whispers harshly. "Today is a very important day for Ava, my daughter. So, we will revisit whatever this is once they leave. Are we clear?"

I nod quietly, just grateful that she hasn't hit me yet. I follow her out of the car, walking through the side of the lawn and over to the door.

Lara turns around abruptly, and I almost bump into her.

"The minute we walk in, take the stairs, and disappear out of sight. I don't want to smell your lousy self around. Or you return to the hospital. Heaven knows I have tried keeping you fed since you killed my sister."

Lara doesn't wait for my response as she pushes the door open, stepping into the cozy space. A sharp pain slices through my chest at her words, and I walk in behind her, needing to be out of her way.

But suddenly, my feet refuse to move, freezing to the spot, when I see the eerily familiar pair of green eyes in Lara's living room.

RYAN'S POV

I don't even realize I've stopped breathing until I hear the screech of the brakes.

One second, the road is clear.

The next, a girl stumbles right into my headlights and collapses like her legs give out beneath her.

For a moment, everything inside me goes still.

Then instinct kicks in.

I'm out of the car together with Thomas before the engine even settles, crossing the road in long strides.

"Hey-" Thomas's voice comes out rough. "Hey, can you hear me?"

She's shaking so badly her teeth are chattering. Her hair is everywhere, her clothes torn, her face blotched with tears and fear I can feel straight through my skin.

And then she whispers, voice barely there, "Please... don't let him take me back..."

I don't know who him is.

But I know what fear looks like.

What escape looks like.

Before I can ask anything, her eyes roll back and she goes limp in my arms.

We lift her easily. She's weightless, like a wounded thing trying to disappear, and carry her into my car. My pulse hasn't slowed since the moment she stepped into the road.

I don't even remember the drive to the hospital. I only remember the way she kept flinching in her sleep, like even the darkness was after her.

*****

Because of an emergency, Thomas leaves the hospital with me waiting alone.

The doctor finally comes out, pulling down his mask.

I stand instantly. "How is she?"

He hesitates, and my jaw tightens.

"There's something you should know," he says quietly. "She's pregnant."

The word hits harder than I expect. Pregnant.

This girl. This terrified, trembling girl was carrying a child?

Running for her life with a baby inside her?

The doctor continues, "The stress and the physical assault she experienced put the pregnancy in danger. We're monitoring her, but she needs specialized care."

I don't let him finish.

"Give her whatever she needs. Private suite, twenty-four-hour monitoring, specialists. Everything."

He nods. "There will be additional-"

"Do it," I cut him off. "Money isn't the problem. Just keep her safe."

And I mean it more than I know how to explain.

He hurries off, and when they move her to the luxury wing, I follow.

The room is quiet, warm, nothing like the night she came from. Machines blink around her, steady and soft. She looks... small. Too small for everything she's carrying.

I stand there for a long minute, watching her breathe, wondering who she is and what kind of world she comes from.

And why I couldn't just leave her there on that road.

I don't have answers.

But I know I can't stay.

Not with what I came here to do tonight.

I stand by her bedside, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the faint beep of the monitor filling the quiet room. She's still unconscious, the kind of still that makes your skin itch with worry. And yet, in this sterile silence, I feel a strange calm, as though being here is the only place I'm allowed to breathe.

My phone buzzes sharply in my pocket, breaking the spell. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

It's one of the company directors.

"Sir," the voice on the line is tense. "We just received notice. The investors... they're asking for confirmation on the new acquisitions tonight. They expect you to attend."

I frown. A frown that feels wrong in the middle of this hospital room. My hands tighten around the railing of the bed.

My father's empire doesn't wait for emergencies.

It doesn't care who's bleeding on the pavement.

It never will.

But something in me shifts. Something stubborn, like it refuses to let another moment slip without action.

Luciana.

I need her to say yes.

Not for the company.

Not for appearances.

For me.

"I'll handle it," I say sharply, ending the call.

I step back from the bed, take a long breath of antiseptic-tinged air, and let my gaze linger on her one last time.

Every line of her face is etched into my mind. Bruised lips, trembling hands, the faint glow of her eyelashes against her cheek.

I don't know her name.

I don't know her story.

But I know I can't leave this behind.

The hospital fades behind me as I get into the car. The city lights smear past, a blur of yellow and red. My pulse thumps against my ribs, urging me forward.

I drive without thinking, following instinct more than roads, until I find myself outside Luciana's building.

*****

Luciana opens her penthouse door wearing silk and that practiced smile she uses on cameras and people she needs.

"Ryan?" She steps back a little. "You look like you wrestled with a storm."

"I need to talk to you."

She raises a brow. "Serious?"

"Yes."

"Too serious."

I don't sit. I don't breathe. I just say it.

"Marry me."

Her expression freezes, then shifts into something unreadable.

"Ryan..."

"You wanted commitment," I remind her. "I'm giving it."

She presses her lips together and for a second, I almost think she'll say yes.

But she sighs, soft and controlled. I believe she immediately remembered the will.

"I can't."

Something cold settles in my chest. "Why not?"

"Because I can't get pregnant," she says simply. "Not now. My entire career depends on my body. My figure. My contracts. A pregnancy would ruin everything. And a child is what you need from what I heard the will read."

I stare at her, and something inside me... clicks out of place.

"But we can find alternatives," she adds quickly. "A surrogate. Or we wait and adopt. Or even... just have a marriage for image."

Image.

Career.

Body.

Not once does she say us.

Not once does she say love.

I take a slow breath. "I understand."

But I don't. Not really.

And I can't stay another second in a place where everything is so conditional.

I storm out angrily.

*****

Mother is waiting when I get home, elegant as always, a woman who carries control in her posture.

"I heard you went to Luciana's," she says.

"I did."

"And?"

"It won't work."

She isn't surprised. If anything, she looks vindicated.

"Of course not. That girl is unserious. And you..." she gives me a pointed look, "you are the soon-to-be chairman of Montenegro Holdings. Your partner must be someone who understands duty."

I rub a hand across my jaw, tired in a way I can't show.

She continues, "Since you clearly don't know how to choose, I've arranged something. A potential bride. Proper background. Proper upbringing. You will meet her tomorrow."

I stiffen. "Mother-"

"This isn't optional," she cuts in. "You're not a boy anymore. You don't get to play with your future. Or ours."

I breathe out slowly. "Fine. I'll go."

Her satisfaction is instant. "Good. And Ryan? Behave."

I don't respond. I just leave.

I should be thinking about tomorrow. About my mother's plans. About the expectations waiting for me.

But all I can see is the girl in the hospital bed.

Bruised. Exhausted. Pregnant. Alone.

And for reasons I can't explain even to myself, she stays in my mind long after I close my eyes.