Chapter 226

Julie’s POV

Our wait stretched for hours long, agonizing hours that felt like eons. I couldn’t bear the restraint anymore; the tension was devouring my nerves, and my body was trembling with an unrelenting anxiety.

I turned to Carlos, my voice firm. "I’m going to check on the situation. I can’t take this anymore!"

Carlos looked at me intently, then let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, but stay calm."

We burst out of the room, and I dashed through the corridor, my heart outrunning my footsteps until I reached the doctor’s office.

There were no guards outside. I shoved the door open and rushed in, but the room was utterly empty.

Carlos caught up to me, panting. "Julie!"

"Where is Robert?" I asked, my voice trembling, tears welling in my eyes. "He was brought here!"

"He’s in the operating room," Carlos said, trying to soothe me. He gestured toward a glass door within the office that I hadn’t noticed before.

"There’s an operating room here?" I gasped. "I have to go in!"

Carlos gripped my arm firmly. "You can’t, Julie. We wait here."

I paced back and forth in that room, wringing my hands and praying silently that no harm would come to Robert. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the glass door hissed open.

The doctor emerged, still clad in surgical blues lightly stained with blood. Three women and a man in similar attire followed her.

I rushed toward her before she could utter a word. "How is he? Tell me!"

The doctor took a slow breath. "The bullet entered his back, right below the shoulder. It was a clean hit; it only tore through muscle tissue. Thankfully, all vital organs are intact. We’ve removed the bullet, and he is now in stable condition."

"Is he... is he okay now?" I whispered, trying to process the news.

"Yes," she replied calmly. "For now, he is doing well."

"I want to see him," I pleaded immediately.

She looked at me sternly. "No."

"What do you mean ’no’?" I snapped, my tone brooking no argument. "I need to see him right now!"

Carlos stepped in to soften the air. "Let her go in, just for a moment," he told the doctor.

The doctor looked at us with a weary sigh. "Fine. Five minutes only."

She signaled to a nurse who quickly approached me with a long blue gown. She helped me into it mechanically, then placed a cap over my hair and a mask over my face, even plastic covers over my shoes.

My heart hammered against my ribs with every step of the preparation. Finally, the glass door opened with a monotonous hum, and I stepped inside.

The scent of disinfectant was so pungent it stung my nostrils, filling every corner of the deathly silent room, broken only by the rhythmic chirping of machines. It was freezing a cold that sent shivers through my entire being.

And there, in the center of that frigid halo, he lay on a cold steel table, prone on his stomach, his head tilted weakly to the left.

I approached with trembling steps, the floor feeling unsteady beneath me. Seeing him like this made the world feel like it was collapsing.

A ventilator tube emerged from his mouth, pumping life into his lungs with a haunting, mechanical regularity. The heart monitor emitted a steady beep... beep the only evidence he was still with me.

A large white bandage covered a vast portion of his back, a grim reminder of that cursed bullet that had tried to steal him away.

My heart shattered as I saw the powerful Robert in such a state of vulnerability. I ran a shaking hand over his pale cheek; his skin was as cold as the room.

I pressed a tender kiss to his tilted cheek and whispered through my tears, hidden behind the mask: "Robert... I’m here, Robert."

His eyelids were taped shut with medical adhesive, hiding the eyes that had always offered me safety. It made his features look drowned in a terrifying stillness, as if he were in a distant world I couldn’t reach, no matter how loud I called.

"Please don’t leave me," I sobbed, my words broken and muffled. "Stay with me... I’ll die without you, Robert. My life has no meaning if you aren’t in it."

I knew he was deep in sedation and couldn’t hear me, but I spoke to him as if he understood every word.

I desperately needed to unload the weight crushing my chest. "I love you, Robert," I said, tears burning my cheeks. "Even when you didn’t tell me you loved me... I was satisfied. My love for you is enough. It will be enough for both of us."

I touched his hand with extreme caution, avoiding the wires connected to his monitors. "My love... I’m so sorry. This all happened because of me. Because I followed you, because I got kidnapped, and because you came to save me... this happened to you."

My grief overcame me, a cocktail of pain and a guilt that gnawed at my soul. At that moment, a nurse entered, her tone quiet but firm. "Miss, you have to leave now."

I couldn’t let go of his hand. I clung to it like a drowning person. "Give me just a little more time with him, please."

"I’m sorry," she replied regretfully. "You have to leave."

I pulled my hand from his with agonizing difficulty, whispering one last word into his ear: "I love you." I walked out, glancing back one last time as the glass door hissed shut, separating us. Carlos was waiting in the hallway. "Do you feel better now?" he asked.

I didn’t answer. I simply threw myself into his arms; I needed someone to hold me, to stop me from a total collapse. "I won’t be okay, Carlos, until I see him open his eyes and speak to me," I sobbed.

He patted my back gently. "He’ll wake up. We’ll all talk to him soon."

I pulled away slightly, wiping my tears. He looked at me seriously. "Since we know Robert is okay, can you tell me now how you got here? You were kidnapped."

"I don’t know who took me," I said, trying to regain my balance. "But someone came and saved me."

Carlos furrowed his brows. "Someone saved you? Who?"

"I don’t know him, but he said his name is James."

"How did he save you?"

"He came to that house looking for the man who kidnapped me. He doesn’t know me; he said he had a score to settle with him. When he found me there, he saved me."

Carlos shook his head, his suspicion growing. "I won’t lie; I find that very strange."

"He’s older," I added. "Not too old, but he looks to be about my father’s age."

"Does the Don have an enemy capable of this?" Carlos mused.

"The Don? Who is that?" I asked, confused.

He ignored my question. "Did this James say anything else to you?"

"It turns out he knows my mother and father," I said, stunned. "And even an aunt I didn’t even know I had!"

Carlos rubbed his chin. "That is truly bizarre."

"Yes, it is," I agreed.

Suddenly, the door was flung open with violence. Thomas, Robert’s father, burst in, pushing his wheelchair forward, his face etched with panic and fury. "How is it that no one told me my son was shot?!" he roared, his voice cracking.

Carlos stepped forward. "Calm down, Mr. Thomas. Robert is okay now."

"Why didn’t you tell me, Carlos?!" Thomas barked, gripping the armrests of his chair. "If I hadn’t called Ron, I never would have known!"

"I didn’t want to worry you," Carlos replied calmly. "Robert is stable now. That’s what matters."

"I want to see my son right now!" Thomas insisted.

He spotted the nurse exiting the OR and shouted at her commandingly.

"You! Come here and take me in!" The nurse, flustered, quickly brought a gown, cap, and mask, just as she had for me. She assisted him as he entered.

Carlos turned to me with a kind tone. "Go to your room and rest for a bit."

I shook my head in flat refusal. "No, I want to stay here. I’m going to wait for Robert to wake up."

My eyes fell on his shirt, stained with patches of crimson blood... my Robert’s blood. A lump formed in my throat. "Go and change your clothes, Carlos. Then come back."

"Alright," he nodded. "I’ll be back soon."

Carlos left, and I was alone in the room. I sat on the chair, counting seconds that felt like hours stretching into infinity.

I waited hungrily for Robert to wake. Suddenly, the door opened, and Thomas exited the room. When he saw me, he wheeled himself directly toward me. He stopped, his gaze piercing through me with sharp intensity.

"This is all because of you," he said. "My son is in this state because he went to save you."

He didn’t need to tell me; I was already being tortured by that certainty. But hearing the words from his mouth made the pain surge, as if a dagger had been driven into my chest. I lowered my head. "I’m sorry," I whispered.

"Sorry?" he mocked with bitter sarcasm. "Will ’sorry’ make my son walk out of that door right now?"

"I never wanted him to get hurt," I said, tears burning my eyes.

He wheeled closer. "I warned you... I told you to stay away from him!"

"I understand your anger," I replied, broken.

He fell silent for a moment, then asked sternly, "Do you love my son?"

I looked up at him, my gaze filled with a sincere, aching truth. "I love him very much."

Then, his voice came out cold and final. "If you love him as you say you do... then get up. Leave this place immediately. And never come back."