Chapter 96 THIS ACHE
Anton kept pacing… back and forth, back and forth… the same stretch of hallway, the same closed doors in front of him.
Hours passed. But to him, time didn’t move. It stayed stuck. Stuck in that moment where Julian’s white shirt soaked in blood, where Eli’s body went limp in his arms.
It all kept replaying in his mind…
Julian collapsing, the sound of machines, the sight of blood draining through the tube in Julian’s chest… It all kept replaying.
Again.
And again.
And again.
By the time the sky outside began to brighten, the hospital had already shifted into morning. More people, more movement, more voices.
But Anton didn’t notice any of it. His vision felt blurred, not physically. Mentally.
Like everything around him had faded into the background, and only those bloody images remained sharp.
His steps slowed, his legs felt heavy now, like each movement took effort. His shoulders were stiff. His heart weighed down with something he couldn’t shake off.
He walked towards the emergency ward to check on Julian again but his heart weighed a ton more and his legs felt weaker.
Then—
“Mr…?”
Anton stopped and turned slowly. A doctor stood in front of him with a serious expression and calm voice.
“Mr. Thorne’s relative?”
Anton nodded once.
“Yes.”
The doctor adjusted his glasses slightly.
“The surgery is over. Eli Thorne has been moved to the ICU.”
Anton’s breath caught for a second.
Then came back, uneven.
“And?” he asked.
The doctor studied him for a moment.
“I would like to discuss his condition with you.”
Anton didn’t speak, he just nodded.
“Come with me.”
Anton followed, his steps slower now.
He felt… off. Like his body was moving, but his mind was still behind.
They entered the doctor’s office… the door closed.
“Sit,” the doctor said.
Anton didn’t.
“I’m fine. Just tell me.”
The doctor nodded slightly.
“We were able to remove the bullet successfully.”
Anton’s shoulders dropped a little. A small relief. But it didn’t last.
“However…” the doctor continued.
Anton’s chest tightened again.
“Due to the impact and trauma to the brain, he has fallen into a coma.”
Anton blinked.
Once.
Then again.
“…what?” his voice came out low.
“He is currently unresponsive,” the doctor explained. “His brain needs time to recover.”
Anton swallowed.
“Will he wake up?”
The doctor didn’t answer immediately.
“He might,” he said carefully. “In a few days. Or longer.”
“Might? A few days or longer?” Anton pressed.
The doctor held his gaze.
“We cannot give an exact timeline. Recovery depends on many factors.”
Anton felt like something cold poured into his chest. The cold spreading quickly or heavily.
“…can I see him?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” the doctor said. “I’ll take you.”
They walked out… down another corridor, to a quieter, more controlled area.
The ICU.
Machines.
Beeping sounds.
Soft footsteps.
They stopped in front of a glass door.
The doctor pushed it open.
Anton stepped inside.
And then… he saw Eli. Lying still on the bed, his skin looked pale.
There were tubes.
A breathing tube in his mouth.
A monitor beside him, showing slow, steady heartbeats.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Anton’s breath shook as he walked closer, each step felt heavier than the last.
He reached the bed… stood there for a second, just looking, taking it in. Then he reached out.
His hand wrapped gently around Eli’s.
Cold. Too cold.
Anton’s fingers tightened slightly. And then—
His composure broke.
A tear slipped down his cheek… then another. And another.
A shaky breath left him.
“Eli…” his voice cracked.
No response.
“Hey… it’s me…”
Nothing.
Anton lowered his head slightly, his grip tightening around Eli’s hand.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered.
His shoulders shook.
“I’m so sorry…”
The words kept coming.
“I should have been there… I should have protected you… I should have—”
His voice broke completely.
A broken sob escaped his throat.
He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching Eli’s hand.
“Wake up…” he begged softly. “Please… just wake up…”
The machines kept beeping, unchanging, uncaring.
Anton stayed there. For a long time.. talking, apologizing, begging, hoping… until his voice grew quiet, until his tears slowed, until there was nothing left to say but cries more than tears.
Finally, he stepped back. Slowly.
His hand slipped from Eli’s, reluctantly.
He took one last look… then turned, and walked out, back into the hallway.
His steps dragged now, exhaustion creeping in. But he didn’t stop. He made his way back to the emergency ward.
To Julian.
He entered the room quietly.
Julian was still unconscious. The chest tube is still in place, but the liquid draining now was lighter. Less blood. More clear.
Anton stood there, watching him, for a moment.
“You better wake up too,” he muttered under his breath. “I have to fight you for making my heart shake so badly, so you better wake up.”
No response.
He exhaled slowly. Then finally, he remembered his own arm. The sting, the dried blood.
He stepped out and found a nurse.
“I need this cleaned,” he said, lifting his arm slightly.
The nurse nodded quickly. “Come with me.”
They cleaned the wound, disinfected it, and wrapped it.
Anton barely felt it, his mind was somewhere else.
When it was done, he muttered a quiet thanks and walked away.
Back toward the ICU.
He reached the door and paused as his phone rang.
Anton frowned slightly and pulled it out.
He answered.
“Yes?”
“Boss,” the voice on the other end said quickly. “Desmond pressed charges against Mr. Julian for assault.”
Anton’s expression darkened instantly.
“What?”
“He also visited Mr. Devon earlier,” the voice continued. “My source said he tried to convince Mr. Devon to retaliate for how Mr. Julian treated his daughter.”
Anton let out a sharp breath.
“Did he also tell Mr. Devon that he was fucking his daughter in a rusty brewery?” he snapped.
Silence on the other end.
“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Anton muttered. “Where is he?”
“He just left,” the voice replied. “He was playing golf with Mr. Devon. He has a meeting in forty-five minutes. He’s heading to his car now.”
Anton’s eyes hardened.
“Good,” he said coldly. “Let him leave first. Then stop him on the road.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Take him to the den,” Anton continued. “Blindfold him, don't let him see anything. No mistakes.”
“Yes, boss.”
Anton ended the call without another word.
He stood there for a second. Then muttered under his breath,
“I’m going to beat some rare sense into him.”
He turned and walked out of the hospital.
The morning air hit him, cool and sharp.
He reached his car, opened the door, and froze immediately he got in.
The smell of blood is still sitting heavily in there.
He looked at the back seat and saw dark stains.
Julian’s blood.
Eli’s blood.
Anton sucked in a breath, held it… then let it out slowly.
He started the engine, and drove.
Straight to Julian’s house.
The drive was quiet and empty. His mind finally going blank.
When he arrived, he went inside without a word to anyone.
Upstairs.
Bathroom.
He stripped, turned on the water, and stood under it… letting it wash over him. The blood, the sweat, the night.
All of it.
But it didn’t wash away the weight in his chest.
After a while, he stepped out.
Dried off, dressed in clean clothes, and picked up one of Julian's car keys.
He walked downstairs, and went straight to the indoor bar, picking up a bottle of clear vodka.
He didn’t bother with a glass, he uncapped it, and drank straight from the bottle.
The burn hit his throat, sharp and strong. He welcomed it.
His phone rang again. He picked it up.
“Yes?”
“Boss,” the voice said. “We have him.”
Anton didn’t respond.
He ended the call immediately, then took another long drink from the bottle.
He turned, and walked outside, vodka still in his hand, to the garage.
He pressed the car remote, and a car beeped in response.
Anton’s lips curved slightly into a menacing smirk.