Chapter 129 OUR WORLD.
\~~~RAINA.
I stood there for a long moment, just staring at her.
Irina looked… unhinged and her eyes darted around the corridor like she expected death to leap out from every corner. Her hands shook and her breathing was uneven. This wasn’t an act. This was raw fear and desperation.
I exhaled sharply, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward a quieter corner of the hallway.
“Come here,” I muttered.
She stumbled after me without any resistance.
The moment we stopped, I turned on her, my voice low but sharp.
“You tried to kill me,’' I whispered harshly, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief, “And then you come here to ask me to save you. What are you thinking?”
Irina's hands flew to her hair, pulling at the tangled strands as if trying to yank out the mess inside her head.
She shook it vigorously, her shoulders slumping.
“I know. I know, okay?” Her voice cracked like thin ice, raw and desperate. She reached out, her bandaged fingers brushing my arm, trying to hold on. I flinched but didn't pull away completely. Up close, her burns looked even worse. Red, and puckered skin twisted across her neck and hands.
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it tough to breathe. I shook my head, wanting to shove her away, to run back to Luciano and forget this nightmare. But she kept going, her eyes locking onto mine with that fierce plea.
“But you are not like me,” she said, her words tumbling out. “You are not like me, or him, or everyone else from our world. You are different.”
Different?
The word hung in the air, heavy and mocking. I let out a bitter laugh, low and sharp.
“And naive to forgive the one person who nearly burnt me to death.” The memory flashed back at the tension from that day at the office and the fear that had gripped me when I thought it was all over.
She had done that.
She did not hesitate to kill me.
How could she stand there and ask for my help now?
Irina's face twisted in pain, and she threw her arms out, pointing at her body like it was exhibited in her defense.
“And I have paid for it, right?!” she exclaimed, her voice rising before she caught herself and lowered it to a hiss.
“Look at me. God, please, just... this one. Talk to him. Help me talk to him to let me go. He would never stop hunting me. My father's enemies would see to it that I die too. Only Luciano can make everyone stay away from me.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting clean paths through the grime on her face. She sobbed quietly, her body folding in on itself, the proud woman I once feared reduced to this broken shell.
I felt a wave of pity crash over me, unwanted and strong. It twisted in my gut, making me want to look away. Of course, I'd never try to put myself in this sickened woman's shoes, no way I'd understand the choices she'd made, and the lives she'd ruined.
But I could imagine why she was like this. Raised in the same dark world as Luciano, surrounded by violence and lies from the day she was born. Power games, betrayals, and the constant fight to survive. She mirrored him so well, the rage, the cunning, and the unyielding drive. It was the world they'd grown up in, a place that chewed people up and spat out monsters.
Luciano had his scars too, invisible ones that ran deep, and seeing Irina like this... it made me see echoes of him in her desperation.
I took a deep breath, the hospital air tasting stale and metallic.
My mind raced back to Luciano who was just down the hall, sleeping off his pain meds, and his body still healing from the bullet he'd taken for Viktor. If he woke up and found her here, all that fragile peace we'd built in the night would shatter.
But turning her away? Letting her face whatever hell was chasing her? That didn't sit right either. Not with the woman I'd become, the one who'd fought to pull Luciano out of his own darkness.
“I have heard you,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the storm inside. “I will talk to him, but I can't promise he will listen to me. But I will try to persuade him, okay?”
Her eyes lit up, a spark of hope cutting through the fear. She grabbed my hands, squeezing too tight, her tears dripping onto our joined fingers.
“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Talia. Thank you…”
I cut her off sharp, pulling back just enough to make my point.
“My name is Raina,” I raised my shoulder gently.
She blinked, confusion flickering across her scarred face. “R... Raina? How so? You…”
“You don't expect explanations from me, do you?” I asked, my tone flat, not giving her room to push.
“N... no,” she stammered, swallowing hard. She clasped her hands in front of her, twisting them together like a child caught in a lie.
Her pride was gone now, replaced by this raw vulnerability that made her seem smaller, and almost human.
“Good,” I said, turning away from her. The alcove felt suffocating, and I needed space, air that didn't smell like desperation and old smoke.
“Because we are not friends,” The words came out colder than I meant, but they were true.
Whatever this was, it wasn't forgiveness or alliance. It was survival, maybe a chance to stop more blood from spilling.
“I will talk to him when he wakes up,” I added over my shoulder, already moving toward the brighter light of the corridor.
“I will wait till he wakes up, please,’' she called softly, her voice pleading again.
I stopped walking, my hand on the wall for support.
Turning back, I looked at her one more time, huddled in the shadows with her eyes wide and hopeful.
Part of me wanted to tell her to leave, and to disappear before anyone saw her. But another part, the one that still believed in second chances, even for people like her, nodded.
“I will let you know when he wakes up.”