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Chapter 18
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Every day, I would visit Ryan, sit by his bedside, and talk to him, even though I knew he couldn’t hear me. I would tell him about the investigation, about how I was doing everything I could to find the person who did this. I told him how much I missed him, how much I needed him to wake up, to come back to me. But every time, I left the hospital with a heavier heart, the reality of his condition crushing me a little more.
I wasn’t eating, barely sleeping, consumed by the need to find answers. My friends worried about me, tried to get me to take care of myself, but I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t rest until I knew who was behind this. One day, as I was leaving Ryan’s room, Eva caught up with me in the hallway. She looked at me, her eyes filled with concern. “Amira, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” she said gently. “You’re going to burn out.” “I’m fine,” I replied automatically, though we both knew it was a lie. “No, you’re not,” she countered, her voice firm. “None of us are. But you’re running yourself into the ground, and that’s not going to help Ryan. You need to take care of yourself too.” “I can’t just stop, Eva,” I said, my voice breaking. “I need to find out who did this. I need to make sure they pay for what they’ve done.” “I know,” she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But you’re no good to anyone if you collapse. Ryan wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” Her words hit me hard, and for a moment, I felt like I was drowning. The weight of everything, the fear, the guilt, the helplessness—it was all too much. But I couldn’t give up. Not now. “I’ll be okay,” I whispered, more to myself than to her. “I have to be.” Eva didn’t look convinced, but she nodded, knowing that pushing me further wouldn’t help. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? We’re all here for you.” I nodded, trying to muster a smile, but it felt hollow. The truth was, I didn’t know how to take care of myself anymore. All I knew was that I needed to find the person responsible, and I wouldn’t stop until I did. The days turned into weeks, and still, there was no progress. The police had hit a dead end, and my own attempts to find answers were leading nowhere. The frustration was eating me alive, but I couldn’t let it show. I had to stay strong, had to keep going, for Ryan. Every time I visited him, it felt like a piece of me was breaking. His condition hadn’t changed, and the doctors were starting to look more and more concerned. They tried to be optimistic, to reassure me that he had a chance, but I could see the doubt in their eyes. The longer he stayed in a coma, the less likely it was that he would wake up. But I refused to give up hope. I couldn’t. Ryan was a fighter, and I knew he would pull through. He had to. One night, as I sat by his bedside, holding his hand, I let the tears fall. I had been holding them back for so long, trying to be strong, but I couldn’t anymore. The fear, the guilt, the helplessness—it all came crashing down on me, and I sobbed, my body shaking with the force of it. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Ryan. I should have protected you. I should have done more.” I didn’t know if he could hear me, but I needed to say it. I needed to let it out, even if it didn’t change anything. “I promise you,” I continued, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m going to find the person who did this. I’m going to make them pay. But I need you to fight too, okay? I need you to come back to me.” The room was silent, except for the steady beep of the machines, and the sound of my own ragged breathing. I felt so alone, so lost, and all I wanted was for Ryan to open his eyes, to tell me that everything was going to be okay. But he didn’t. He just lay there, motionless, and the sight of it broke me all over again. I stayed by his side for hours, not wanting to leave, not wanting to face the world outside. But eventually, I had to go. I kissed his forehead, whispered one last promise to find the person responsible, and left the room, my heart heavy with grief. As I walked through the hospital corridors, the weight of everything pressed down on me. The faces of my colleagues, the patients, all blurred together, and I felt like I was moving through a fog. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep going like this, how much longer I could hold on.Related chapters
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The days passed with a suffocating sense of inertia. Each visit to the hospital, each glance at Ryan’s unmoving form, deepened the pit of despair in my chest. My frustration with the police was growing. They seemed uninterested in finding Ryan’s shooter, and every time I tried to get information, I was met with excuses, delays, and outright dismissals. It was as if they were intentionally dragging their feet.I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The evidence was minimal, sure, but it felt like the police weren’t even trying. Their disinterest was becoming too apparent to ignore. The nagging thought that they might be compromised or involved somehow wouldn’t leave my mind. But I had no proof, just a gut feeling that gnawed at me constantly.One evening, after another frustrating day of getting nowhere with the police, I found myself outside a bar. I hadn’t planned on coming here, but my feet had led me here unconsciously. The need to escape, even just for a few hours,
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my heart pounding as I stared at the message scrawled across the wall in vivid red paint: *"You belong to me."* The words dripped with a possessive menace that sent a chill down my spine. But the shock quickly turned into a searing anger, a white-hot rage that bubbled up from deep inside me.How dare they? Whoever it was, they had not only violated my home but had the audacity to claim ownership over me, as if I were some object to be possessed. My mind raced, a chaotic mix of fury and fear. I couldn’t let them get away with this. I wouldn’t let them.I stormed into my bedroom, my hands shaking with adrenaline. I yanked open the drawer in my nightstand, rummaging through it until my fingers closed around the cold, hard metal of the gun I kept hidden there. I hadn’t touched it in months but now, it felt like the only thing that could give me any semblance of control.With the gun in hand, I tore through my apartment, flinging open closet doors, checking under the bed, behind the curt
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Just then, I heard a knock on the door. I froze, the gun still clenched in my hand, my body tense with a mix of fear and rage. The knock came again, more insistent this time, followed by a familiar voice.“Amira? Are you okay in there?”It was Denis, my neighbor. I hesitated, glancing around the apartment, trying to pull myself together. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands, and forced myself to walk to the door.I cracked it open, just enough to see Denis’s concerned face on the other side. “Hey,” I said, my voice strained. “I’m fine. Just, uh… just a bad day.”Denis frowned, glancing over my shoulder into the apartment. “I heard you shouting. Are you sure you’re okay?”I nodded quickly, trying to give him a reassuring smile, though it probably looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… stressed. You know how it is.”He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded slowly. “Okay, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m right next door.”“Thanks, Deni
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For two days, I kept myself locked in my apartment, shutting out the world and the people who cared about me. The sunlight filtered weakly through the drawn curtains, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t ready to face what was out there, to confront the reality that had become my life. The message on the wall haunted me, the vivid red letters burned into my mind, echoing in my thoughts with each passing moment.My phone buzzed incessantly with calls and texts from my friends. They were worried, and I couldn’t blame them. But no matter how hard they tried to convince me to come out, I refused. I wasn’t ready to be around people,who will get hurt because of me.I wandered through my apartment, feeling like a ghost, aimless and hollow. My mind was a whirlpool of fear, anger, and exhaustion, pulling me deeper into a dark place where nothing made sense anymore. Every creak, every shift of light in the room made my heart race, my paranoia growing with each hour I spent alone. The gun sat on the coff
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I remained staring at the wall “do you want him to die?”Someone is watching me definitely- this is the only thing that has been running in my head.I spent hours searching my apartment, tearing through every inch of it, looking for the hidden cameras I know must be here. I checked every nook and cranny, every crevice and corner, but I found nothing. The cameras, if they’re here, are too well-hidden. I can’t find them, and that makes everything so much worse. It means that someone is watching me, controlling me, and I have no way of stopping them. I finally gave up, collapsing onto the floor again, my body wracked with exhaustion and grief. I’ve been running on empty for days, and the toll it’s taken on me is evident. I’m weak, physically and mentally. I haven’t slept properly, I haven’t eaten, and I can feel myself slipping away, my sanity hanging by a thread.But I can’t give in. I can’t let them win. Whoever is doing this, they want to break me, they want to destroy me. But I won’
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I refused to leave Ryan’s side, not even for a second. Every breath he took, every twitch of his fingers, I watched with an intensity that bordered on obsession. The gun in my bag was a constant reminder of how desperate I had become. I wanted to end this nightmare, to put a stop to the fear that had taken over my life. But most of all, I wanted to protect Ryan. It had been days since I last slept properly, my body running on nothing but adrenaline and sheer determination. I couldn’t let anything happen to him, not while I was there to prevent it. But as the hours dragged on, I could feel exhaustion creeping in, dulling my senses, making it harder to stay focused.Ryan, even in his weakened state, noticed. “Amira,” he said softly, his voice a raspy whisper, “you need to rest. You can’t keep going like this.”“I’m fine,” I lied, shaking my head. But even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true. The truth was, I was terrified—terrified of what might happen if I wasn’t there, if I let my gu
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“We need to get out of here,” Daniel said, his voice cutting through my thoughts. “It’s not safe.”I didn’t argue. I couldn’t stand to be in that apartment a moment longer. We hurried out, locking the door behind us, and made our way back to Daniel’s car.The drive back to his house was tense, both of us on high alert, scanning the streets for any sign of danger. But once again, the streets were quiet, almost too quiet.When we finally arrived back at Daniel’s place, I felt a small sense of relief, but the fear and anxiety were still there, gnawing at me. We were one step closer to finding out who was behind this, but we were still far from having all the answers.Inside, Daniel immediately set to work analyzing the cameras. He was good with tech, one of the many reasons I had trusted him to help me. As he connected the cameras to his computer, I watched anxiously, my heart pounding in my chest.After a few minutes, he turned to me, his expression grim. “These cameras are high-end, pr
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On the other side of the horizon,The mysterious man,The night in Italy was colder than usual, a sharp contrast to the heat of my rage. The moment I learned Amira had defied my warnings and gone to see Ryan, I felt the familiar surge of anger coursing through my veins, the kind that made me feel alive, made me feel in control. I had warned her, threatened her, yet she still defied me. Her stubbornness would be her downfall, but not yet. No, I wasn’t ready to let her go that easily.I was sitting in my grand office, the leather chair creaking under my weight as I leaned back, my eyes fixed on the screen in front of me. I ordered my assistant, John, to cancel all my meetings and programs. We had been in Italy for business, but now my focus had shifted back to Arizona. I had something more pressing to attend to.As I watched the footage of her apartment, my heart raced with anticipation. My men had informed me that she had gone to the hospital first, then returned to her apartment with
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The next day, I was at the hospital, busy with my rounds when my phone buzzed. It was Mia, calling me in a tone that dripped with anger.“Amira, what the hell did you do?” she snapped before I could even say hello. Her voice was filled with accusation, and I could almost feel the heat of her frustration through the phone.“What are you talking about, Mia?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “What did I do?”“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Ryan is devastated, Amira. You’ve really hurt him this time,” she said, her words like sharp daggers. “By the way, congratulations on all the likes your post is getting. You and Aiden look so cozy, practically made for each other.”The line went dead before I could say another word. I stood there, frozen for a moment, confusion and panic washing over me. What post? What was Mia talking about? My pulse quickened as I pulled out my phone and opened Instagram.There it was—a post of me and Aiden, arms wrapped tightly around each other, o
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The air between us was thick with tension as Aiden closed the door behind him. His eyes burned with a possessive intensity, and before I could even register what was happening, he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me against him, his grip firm and unyielding. His mouth crashed down onto mine, urgent and demanding, and my immediate instinct was to push him away. I pressed my hands against his chest, clamping my mouth shut, but it only seemed to fuel him more.“Stop it, Aiden,” I managed to say, turning my head to the side to escape his lips. But he was relentless. His hand snaked up to my neck, and he gripped a fistful of my hair, yanking it just enough to bring my face back to him, forcing me to look into his darkened gaze. His voice was low and dangerously soft as he murmured, “I’m showing you that I own you, Amira.”I clenched my lips together, determined not to give him the satisfaction of my compliance. He kissed me again, harder this time, his mouth moving against mine with a hu
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As I sat at the dining table, I couldn’t help but notice the tension thickening in the air. Aiden stormed into the mansion wearing his perfectly tailored suit, but his face carried a look of cold fury. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes burned with an unspoken anger. He glanced at me with a scowl before heading upstairs without a word. I watched him disappear down the hall, utterly confused about what had triggered his sudden temper.I turned back to my dinner, but the curiosity gnawed at me. What could have possibly happened to make him so furious? Aiden returned after a few minutes, freshly showered, and looking more composed. He strode down the stairs, his steps purposeful, his hair slightly damp, and his white shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a hint of his toned chest. His mother, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, instructed the servants to serve him dinner.As he settled at the table across from me, the tension was palpable. He began eating in a calm, almost too measured
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L following day at the hospital, I was already feeling the strain of having my personal bodyguard shadowing me everywhere. Every step I took, there he was, a few paces behind, his stern gaze making my every move feel scrutinized. It was as if Aiden’s reach extended beyond the confines of our home, clutching me tightly even here. I desperately needed some space, and my irritation was starting to show.As I was tending to one of the pediatric patients, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Eva. I quickly excused myself and stepped out into the hallway, pressing the phone to my ear. “Eva? Is everything okay?”“Amira, I just wanted to check on you. How are you doing?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern. “You’re really working in that hospital in Italy now?”“Yes,” I replied, glancing back at the bodyguard who stood near the corner, pretending not to eavesdrop but clearly listening. “I’m fine, just adjusting to everything here.”“Adjusting?” Eva’s tone became more skeptical.
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At dinner, the atmosphere was a blend of tension and a strange sense of belonging I hadn’t quite felt in a while. Aiden’s mother, a warm and elegant woman with a gentle demeanor, was seated across from me. She looked at me with an encouraging smile as she asked, “How was your first day, dear? You must have had quite the challenge working in a new country.”I took a deep breath, setting my fork down. “It was… different,” I admitted, a small smile creeping onto my lips. “But I managed. The language barrier was difficult, but I’m learning.”She nodded, clearly pleased. “I’m proud of you,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “It takes courage to adapt so quickly.”A rush of pride filled my chest, and I couldn’t help but cast a quick glance at Aiden, who sat at the head of the table, casually eating as if the whole conversation was of little interest to him. He didn’t look up, his focus solely on his meal, and it only made my resolve harden. At least his mother was proud of me, and that
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The morning of my first day working at the hospital in Italy, I woke up with a strange mix of eagerness and anxiety. The air in the mansion felt heavy, almost suffocating, as if reminding me that I wasn’t here by choice. I sat at the edge of the bed, pulling on my slippers with a sense of determination. Working at the hospital was my one opportunity to feel some sense of normalcy, even if it came with strings attached.I headed downstairs holding Leo in my hand and handed over to his mom to take care of him. where Aiden was casually seated at the dining table, sipping his coffee as though he didn’t have a care in the world. His presence filled the room in a way that made me feel small and insignificant, even though I wasn’t about to let him see that. Marco, my assigned bodyguard, was already waiting by the door, dressed in a black tuxedo that seemed completely out of place for a hospital.As I picked up my bag, Aiden glanced up at me with that familiar controlling look in his eyes. “Y
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I sat on the couch with Leo nestled in my lap, his small body curled up as I ran my fingers through his soft fur. The house felt unusually quiet, save for the occasional ticking of the wall clock. Aiden had just finished getting ready to leave for the hospital, his keys jingling in his hand as he strode toward the door. There was a finality in his movements, like he was already in his own world, where I didn’t matter. And for some reason, that bothered me.I glanced at the clock again and then at Leo, who seemed perfectly content to lie there and bask in the moment. Something inside me stirred—a resolve I wasn’t sure I had before. I couldn’t just sit here every day while my career and life slipped away. I needed to do something, to reclaim a sense of normalcy, of independence.Before I could overthink it, I called out to Aiden, my voice breaking the stillness of the room. “Aiden.”He stopped, halfway out the door, and turned back with a look of mild surprise. I almost never called him
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The next morning, I woke to the soft tickle of a small, warm tongue licking my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Leo’s tiny face staring at me, his big brown eyes full of curiosity and affection. He let out a little whine and limped slightly as he moved closer, nudging my hand with his nose. It was as if he was trying to wake me up properly, to start the day together. I reached out and stroked his fur gently, feeling a pang of worry as I noticed the slight limp from the previous day’s accident.“Good morning, little one,” I whispered, lifting him up and kissing the top of his head. His tail wagged weakly, but there was a spark of life in his eyes that made me smile.As I got up, I noticed Aiden stirring on the couch. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing in pain. Sleeping on that couch hadn’t done him any favors, and it was evident by the irritated grimace on his face. He caught sight of Leo and me cuddling together, his expression darkening. For a moment, I saw a fl
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I gently patted the soft fur on Leo’s little head as he nuzzled into my hand. He had bright, curious eyes and a coat of fluffy white and brown patches. I had spent the last hour crafting a makeshift bed for him out of a wicker basket I found in the storage room, lining it with soft blankets to keep him warm. Placing it on the bed where Aiden usually slept felt like a small act of defiance. If he wanted to control everything, he would have to share the bed—at least with Leo.Leo seemed to be enjoying himself, playfully pawing at my fingers. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a genuine smile tug at my lips. I wasn’t thinking about Aiden, or the nightmare my life had become. I was just focused on this tiny creature who seemed to love me unconditionally.The door clicked open, and I looked up to see Aiden walk in. His eyes took in the scene before him—me sitting on the bed with Leo curled up next to me, clearly marking his territory. Aiden’s jaw tightened for a moment, b
