Chapter 27 Chapter Twenty-- Seven
Luciano's POV
The nurse’s hands were shaking so hard I was sure the keycard might slip through her fingers. She kept glancing between the gun pressed to her temple and my eyes—as if searching for a mercy I didn’t have.
“G–go in, sir…” she whispered.
I didn’t spare her another glance. The only thing I saw—the only thing that mattered—was the girl lying on that hospital bed.
Kamari.
My feet moved on their own. Slow. Heavy. Every step felt like dragging chains behind me. The scent of antiseptic cut through the air, the monitors hummed steadily, but none of that mattered. What mattered was her.
And God… she looked like hell.
Her skin was too pale. Too cold. Her lips cracked. Her arms wrapped in bandages that were already staining through with red. There were scratches on her shoulders, marks from the rope that burned into her wrists, and her hair—usually messy in that stubborn, annoying way—was damp and plastered to her skin.
She didn’t look asleep….She looked gone.
My chest tightened until it burned. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until it stung.
The doctor said she might not survive.
The words kept replaying like a curse tattooed onto my skull.
I moved closer, stopping beside her bed, staring down at her as if she might disappear if I blinked. My hand hovered over her cheek—then pulled back. I didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.
“Why did you do this?” I whispered, voice barely audible. “Why couldn’t you just stay put for once?”
Because it wasn’t her fault….None of it was.
And that truth hit harder the longer I looked at her.
She ran because of me…She got dragged, beaten, humiliated… because of me…She ended up in this hospital bed, fighting for her life… because of me.
A sour taste flooded my mouth, bitter and unforgiving. I pulled a chair closer, lowering myself into it like my knees suddenly forgot how to function. I leaned my elbows on my thighs, dragging a hand over my face.
Everything in me was shaking. From anger. From fear. From a kind of guilt I wasn’t used to feeling.
Someone walked into the room and stopped at the door, clearing their throat.
“Boss… you’re not supposed to be in here—”
“Get out,” I rasped.
“But the doctor—”
I turned my head slowly, giving Jasper a look that stripped the blood from his face.
“I said. Get. Out.”
He swallowed and disappeared before I could blink.
The room went quiet again. Except for the machines. Except for her weak, faint breaths. I turned back to her, leaning forward again.
“You can’t die,” I murmured. “You hear me?”
The words felt foreign on my tongue. Like they weren’t meant for someone like me to say. But there they were—real, heavy, ripping straight out of the part of my chest I didn’t even know existed.
“Don’t you dare leave me.” Her fingers twitched.
My heart jumped so fast I almost stood up. But then they went still again, and I exhaled slowly, letting the air deflate my lungs.
I leaned back, staring at her silently. Every time I looked at the cuts and bruises on her body, my jaw tightened until the muscles ached. I wasn’t even sure if my anger was directed at Joselyn… or myself.
I didn’t want to think about it….Not now…Not while she was drifting between life and whatever the hell was on the other side.
Her breathing hitched, a small painful sound, nothing more than a whimper—but it cut straight into me.
I leaned close enough for my forehead to touch the edge of her mattress. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “You’re safe now. Just keep breathing. Please.”
I don’t beg. But for her… I did.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours. The clock on the wall kept ticking but time didn’t feel real anymore. I sat there motionless, just watching her chest rise and fall, slow and fragile.
And then something inside me snapped.
I stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back with a screech.
No…This wasn’t happening…Not again. Not to someone in my care. Not to someone… I opened the door and stepped into the hallway where Jasper was standing guard.
“Find Joselyn,” I said quietly. Jasper blinked. “Boss?”
“Find. Her.”
He froze for half a second. “Should I… bring her to you?”
“No,” I said, voice calm—too calm. “Just find her first.”
He nodded once and hurried away. I wasn’t done. Not even close.
I walked to the reception desk where two nurses stood up instantly. Their eyes widened. Word must have already spread that the man with the gun was in the VIP ward.
“Call the doctor,” I said. They scrambled immediately, one almost dropping the phone.
A few minutes later, the doctor walked toward me, adjusting his glasses. “Mr. Luciano—”
“You said she might not survive,” I cut in.
“Yes,” he answered carefully. “She lost a significant amount of blood. The whipping wounds got infected. The scratches were deep and she fainted twice. It’s… not looking very good, sir.”
My jaw ticked. “But she’s alive.”
“For now,” he said.
I stepped closer until he had to tilt his head up to look at me. “You listen to me,” I said quietly. “If she dies, you’re the first person I bury.”
His throat bobbed. “Y–yes, sir. I’ll—I’ll do everything.”
“Good.” My voice dropped lower. “Because you don’t want to see what I become if she doesn’t wake up.”
I turned and walked back into the room before he could respond. Sitting down again beside her bed, the anger drained slowly out of me, replaced with something heavier—something far more dangerous.
Fear.
She was the one person who shouldn’t matter.
The one person I should have let go.But instead… here I was…Breaking hospital rules….Threatening staff…Pacing like a madman….Waiting for her to breathe stronger again.
She didn’t open her eyes. But I stayed. Hours passed… and I stayed.
Because if she woke up and didn’t see me there—
I’d never forgive myself. And if she didn’t wake up at all…
I wouldn’t forgive anyone else. Especially not myself.
I reached out finally, taking her hand carefully—gently, like she was made of glass. “Kamari,” I whispered, “don’t you dare give u
p on me.” Her fingers didn’t move.Her eyes didn’t open.
But I didn’t let go. And for the first time in years…I prayed.