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Chapter 2

Raya's POV

"Hey—hey, open your eyes and look at me," a distant frantic voice pierced through the haze in my mind.

"Mr. Marcello, you've to let her go, she's dead, the car's windshield is drenched with her blood, and there's no way she's going to survive a fall from that height," another voice said again, shaky but resolute.

I could feel a pair of hands gripping my body tightly.

"No! Her breathing is tense, and I can feel her pulse, I'm taking her to the hospital," The voice said again, running towards the blaring sound of an emergency car.

"Mr Marcello," another voice called, tearing a venomous hiss from his lips.

"She's fuckin alive, do what I say or I bury you alongside her," He threatened.

The sounds of hurried footsteps, the wails of sirens, and the jarring cold of the night pressed harshly against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the hands holding my bloodied body.

"Stay alive for me baby, you cannot leave me now, not now when I found you," the voice said again and I tried to open my eyes, to see the man behind the voice, but all I saw was darkness. My body felt heavy, my limbs like dead weight as the bus started before I fell unconscious again

*********

My consciousness slipped awake slowly and the sharp sterile smell of the hospital hit me before the blinding lights did. My body, limp and bloodied, was hurriedly wheeled through the hallway, the sound of frantic voices overlapping. The wheels of the gurney squeaked against the cold linoleum floors as doctors and nurses swarmed around.

"She's crashing! BP is dropping fast!" one of the nurses yelled, her voice high-pitched and urgent.

"Get her into Trauma 1! We're losing her!" the doctor barked, his tone sharp and commanding.

But above all the chaos, there was his voice.

"I'm staying with her!" It was low, dangerous, and resolute.

"Sir, you can't be here!" a nurse insisted, trying to block his path.

"Like hell, I can't." He shoved past her, his imposing figure towering over the medical team as he followed the gurney. His hands were still smeared with my blood, his sharp suit ruined, but his dark eyes were fixed on me.

"Mr. Marcello, please, you're interfering with our work!" another doctor tried, stepping in front of him.

"I said, I'm not leaving her!" His voice boomed through the room, making everyone pause for a fraction of a second. He leaned over me, his hand brushing a strand of blood-matted hair away from my face. His expression was a storm of rage and desperation, a man teetering on the edge.

"Sir, she needs immediate attention. You're not helping her by being here!"

"Do your job, and I won't have to remind you who you're speaking to," he hissed, his voice icy and controlled but brimming with menace.

The doctor faltered, clearly weighing his options before reluctantly nodding. "Fine, Mr. Marcello, but please stay out of the way," the doctor said, and I could feel his quivering voice.

"Good." He moved back just enough for them to work, but I could feel his intense gaze on my body, unleaving.

"Intubate her now!" the lead doctor commanded. "Her oxygen levels are critical. Prepare for a transfusion—she's lost too much blood."

"Pulse is weak but steady," another nurse reported, attaching monitors to my chest.

"Start a line. We need fluids and crossmatch for blood!"

My consciousness was beginning to slip again, and I could feel my fight for life reduce to nothing. Maybe this was it— maybe this was how I was going to die.

"Hey—hey, hey! Why the fuck is that line running straight, that's not supposed to happen," I felt a faint pull at the edge of consciousness. The pain was distant, muffled, but the tension in the room reached me like an echo. His voice cut through the fog again.

"Don't you dare give up on me," he murmured, leaning close enough that his warmth reached my frozen skin. His fingers brushed my blood-streaked cheek.

"You're a fighter. You survived that fall, and you'll survive this." he continued, his voice shaky.

"Mr. Marcello—"

"I said shut up and save her!" he snapped at the nurse who dared to interrupt.

"I don't think she's going to make it, her oxygen level is dropping," a female voice said and the click of a gun rented the air next.

"What did you say," He yelled, walking closer to the already frantic nurse.

The machines around me beeped wildly as the doctors worked, their hands moving with practiced precision.

"Her pressure is stabilizing," one of them announced a sliver of relief in his tone, sparing the nurse an untimely death.

"She needs surgery immediately," the lead doctor declared. "She's not out of danger yet, we need to remove the shards of glass that have gotten into her body from the fall and have a few surgeries done on her broken bones," the head doctor said.

As they wheeled me toward the operating room, he followed, his presence like a shadow that refused to leave.

"We need you to stop here Mr Marcello," the doctor said firmly, blocking the doors.

"I'm not leaving her."

"Mr. Marcello, if you want her to survive, you have to let us do our job without you hovering over us. You can't follow her into surgery."

For a moment, he looked ready to argue, his fists clenched at his sides, but then his shoulders sagged slightly. He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he stepped back.

"Fine. But if anything happens to her, anything at all, I'll make sure you all end up the same way as her," he growled, his voice low and threatening.