FLORA’S POV:
As I slowly opened my eyes, I realized the day had slipped away. It felt like I had been unconscious for an eternity. The dim light seeping through a small crack in the window made me squint. My vision was blurry, and I couldn’t make out my surroundings. The more I tried to focus, the more the throbbing pain in my head intensified, almost giving me a migraine.
I closed my eyes again, trying to calm my racing thoughts. A wave of unease swept over me, and I impulsively asked, "Where is this?" My voice was weak and hesitant, but the silence that followed was even more unsettling. No one answered. The quiet around me was unnervingly still.
Then, like a flash of lightning, the memory of my last moments hit me. The realization sent a jolt through my body.
Following a blurry picture of someone hovering over me after the accident, I couldn't tell who it was.
Ignoring the sharp pain that pulsed through my head and spine, I forced my eyes open again. Fear clawed at me—I needed to know if I was safe. But deep down, I knew true safety was a luxury I couldn’t afford at the moment.
The weight of my thoughts became unbearable, pressing down on me like a physical force. Overwhelmed, I allowed myself to drift into the recesses of my mind, a place where pain momentarily subsided. With my eyes closed, a serene, almost dreamlike environment unfolded before me.
It was familiar, yet otherworldly. And just as I had anticipated, Selene appeared—radiant, ethereal, and impossibly beautiful. She smiled at me, her voice as calming as a gentle breeze. "Flora, trust your instincts. You're doing fine, and everything will be okay soon. But you must be careful. You have much more battle ahead.”
I wanted to respond, to tell her everything that was tearing me apart, but I couldn’t. My lips parted, but no sound escaped. A lump formed in my throat, suffocating my words before they could reach her. I swallowed hard and remained silent. Before I could gather my thoughts, Selena’s face began to fade, dissolving into the void.
“Don……t goo.” I stuttered, but it was too late, she was gone.
Darkness returned, and with it, the cold grip of reality. I opened my eyes again, bracing for the pain, but this time it was bearable. Slowly, I scanned the room. It was empty, just as it had been before. My surroundings confirmed my suspicion—I was in a hospital. The sterile smell, the hum of machinery, and the modern equipment left no doubt.
“But why was it so quiet in here? Who brought me here?”
I thought within myself.
Then I remembered the car chasing us. And it occured to me that I was either in Lucian or Jonathan’s possession.
I attempted to sit up, but my arm tugged against something. Looking down, I realized I was connected to an IV drip. Gritting my teeth, I yanked it out. The sting was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the pain that had brought me here. Stumbling out of bed, I made my way to the window, searching for an escape route. The window was too small to squeeze through.
I scanned through and there was no more opening.
That left the door—the riskier option. I turned toward it, but before I could move, I heard faint footsteps. They grew louder, each step tightening the knot of fear in my chest. Panicked, I scrambled back into bed and lay still, feigning unconsciousness.
The door creaked open, and two figures entered the room. My heart sank. One of them was Jonathan.
"Jonathan," I gasped, my voice barely audible.
He said nothing, his expression cold and unforgiving. The weight of his gaze was unbearable. “I’m sorry,” I blurted out, though I wasn’t sure what it would change. His silence was deafening, his eyes burning with restrained anger, as they shot at me like arrows. The tension was so thick a knife could cut through it.
He turned to the other man—a doctor—and instructed him to examine me. The doctor approached, checking my vitals with quick precision. His face shifted from concern to surprise. “She seems to have rapid healing,” he reported, his voice tinged with disbelief.
I couldn't agree less with him, I felt light myself.
Jonathan dismissed the doctor with a curt nod. “Leave us,” he ordered.
Now alone, he stepped closer, closing the distance between us. His presence was suffocating. Inches away, I could feel his warm breath against my skin. His intense gaze pinned me down, radiating danger.
Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against my cheek in a mock display of tenderness. “Dahlia,” he began, his tone low and menacing, “what were you thinking? Running away? From me? Let me make one thing clear—if I can’t have you, Lucian will. You’re not going anywhere.” His grip on my face tightened as he spoke, each word a dagger aimed at my soul.
Fear and despair washed over me. Tears welled up, threatening to spill, but I willed myself to remain stoic. Jonathan’s lips suddenly claimed mine, a gesture meant to assert control rather than affection. My body trembled under his touch, recoiling from the violation even as the pains persisted.
He pulled away, and it relieved a bit of my fear.
Even when it seemed impossible, I tried to still plot an escape.
I had no idea what awaited me after her.
I thought of the messages I had seen on Jonathan's phone and the scene of Lucian’s first son. And then what Jonathan was upto.
Before I could piece anything, the doctor re-entered the room, his expression grave. He whispered something to Jonathan, his tone urgent. Jonathan’s demeanor shifted instantly, his anger replaced with a cautious intensity.
He turned back to me, his dark eyes unreadable. I lay there, frozen, as a hundred questions raced through my mind. What had the
doctor told him? And what would it mean for me?