Chapter 57
Chapter 57
LUCA'S POV
DRIFTING IN AMD OUT OF CONSCIOUSNESS.
"Sir... can you hear me?"
The voice was distant, so far away it might as well have come from the bottom of a well. It echoed in my skull like a ghostly whisper, muffled, soft, but persistent. My mind felt thick, like it had been dipped in fog and left to dry. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t even sure I was conscious.
"Sir... can you see anything?"
The voice came again, more urgent this time, as though it were trying to pull me back from whatever dark corner I’d wandered into. I felt fingers press gently on my face, and then something pried one of my eyelids open. A flash of white light hit my eye, piercing through the darkness behind my lids.
I flinched hard.
"Argh..." The sound ripped out of me, hoarse and raw, as I jerked upright. Pain exploded through my body with such violence it made me dizzy. My shoulder felt like someone had rammed a hot metal rod through it. My breath caught, sharp and ragged, and for a second I thought I was going to black out all over again.
The room spun.
A strangled groan escaped me as I clutched my side instinctively, the pain forcing my memory back into motion. That’s when I remembered, i was injured. Badly.
"Relax, sir… relax..."
Another voice this time. Softer. A woman’s voice. Calmer, smoother. It cut through the chaos in my head like a warm knife through ice. But my vision was still blurred, smudged like rain on glass. I could barely make out the figures around me. Just shadows. Shapes. Echoes of familiarity.
I blinked hard, trying to force clarity. It didn’t work. I lifted my hand and rubbed it over my eyes, slow and deliberate, wincing as even that slight movement triggered another surge of pain through my arm. The haze began to lift, gradually.
Faces emerged.
"Where am I... what happened..."
My voice was low, strained, almost unrecognizable. I stared at them, three people, all dressed in soft blue. Familiar. Members of my personal care team.
One of them stepped forward, her voice gentle yet firm. "Sir, you're in the home clinic. You passed out yesterday. One of the men noticed you’d been in your office far too long, and when he checked in, he found you unconscious. Your shoulder was still bleeding badly. If he hadn't found you when he did..." she paused, letting the weight of her words land, "it could’ve been fatal. You’d already lost a dangerous amount of blood."
I said nothing. My throat felt tight, my chest heavy. I sat there, still, as fragments of last night began creeping back into my mind like shattered pieces of glass sliding across a floor. The blood. The gunshot. The cold floor. The silence.
"Shit... I need a drink," I muttered, my voice more breath than words. Without another thought, I swung my legs off the bed and pushed myself up.
I had barely made it a few steps before that same piercing pain shot down from my shoulder to my fingertips, nearly making me collapse again. I clenched my jaw, my knuckles turning white as I steadied myself against the doorframe.
I could feel their eyes on me. Concerned. Watching. Maybe even a little afraid of what I might do next.
I reached the door and placed my hand on the knob, but something in me paused. A stillness. A moment of clarity. Slowly, I turned around.
"Thank you all... I appreciate it." I brought my palms together in front of my chest and gave a small, respectful bow of my head.
They were stunned. But then they smiled, just slightly. Enough to acknowledge the gesture. That was all I needed.
Without another word, I turned, twisted the knob, and stepped out of the room.
\---
In no time, I was on my bed again, face buried deep into the pillow. I didn’t cry. But I growled, loud, harsh, and primal. The pillow muffled the sound, but it didn’t soften the pain. My shoulder felt like it had been crushed with a hammer, and the ache was now spreading like fire down my entire arm.
I stayed there, my face pressed into the cotton, breathing hard.
"Elena..." Her name left my mouth like a reflex, as if my body knew who I needed before my mind did.
She flashed into my thoughts, her smile, her voice, the way she’d look at me like she could see through everything. Felt like I hadn’t spoken to her in a while, hadn’t told her what happened. And yet, something in me longed for her presence.
"I should call her... right about now..." I murmured, dragging myself up from the bed and crawling until I reached the bedside table. My phone sat there, untouched.
I grabbed it and stared at the screen for a second before finding her contact.
I called once. No answer.
Then a couple more times finally she picked
"Lena..." Her name fell from my lips like a prayer. I didn’t even think about what I wanted to say.
"Hey...uh..." I started awkwardly, the words tumbling out too fast. "I don’t know if you’re busy or anything but... could we meet up?"
The moment I said it, I hated myself for it. I hadn’t asked how she was. No check-in. No warmth. Just straight to the point like I was entitled to her time.
But I couldn’t help it. I needed her.
So I didn’t back down. "I really need your company..." I said quietly.
There was a pause on the other end.
"Uhh... I... I don’t get you. But first of all, good morning. I trust you’re doing well..."
Her voice was calm, unfazed, but there was a trace of curiosity in it. She didn’t sound angry. If anything, she sounded concerned. That made it worse.
I let out a low chuckle. "Good morning too, Elena." I paused again, searching for words.
"Might sound weird if I tell you why I need your company..."
"Well...?" Her voice was softer now, almost encouraging. She wanted to understand.
I rubbed my hand across my face, a laugh escaping me, dry and humorless. "Uhh... funny story, but... I got shot. Just thought maybe seeing your face might help get my mind off the pain."
Silence.
Then her voice returned, sharp, panicked. "Huh...? Did I hear you right? Did you say you got shot?"
There was a tremor in her voice I had never heard before, genuine fear. The kind that made my stomach twist.
"You still there? Talk to me..." Her voice was rising now, frantic, urgent.