Adeline POV
He was bleeding.
His knuckles, his shoulder, even the side of his face… blood soaked through his shirt and dripped onto the rooftop floor with every brutal punch he landed.
And yet—he didn't stop.
His breathing was ragged. His jaw clenched. His eyes were dark, too dark… like something inside him had snapped.
"Lukas," I whispered, my voice barely escaping my lips. My throat burned. My ribs ached from when I hit the wall. But I pushed myself up.
I crawled forward, feeling dizzy—my legs trembling beneath me.
"Stop…" I said again, louder this time.
He didn't hear me. Or maybe he did—but couldn't pull himself out of the storm inside him. His fist met the man's face again. And again.
"LUKAS!" I cried out, dragging myself to his side. "You're bleeding too much! Please—stop."
Finally… finally, his body froze.
His arm suspended mid-air, shaking.
And then it dropped.
He looked at me, like he didn't even know I was there until now.
The rage melted away from his eyes, and something even more painful replaced it.
Guilt.
Fear.
He collapsed beside me, his chest rising and falling in hard bursts. I cupped his face, tears falling freely now.
"Why didn't you stop…" I whispered, brushing the blood from his cheek. "Why do you always hurt yourself for me…"
He let out a low breath, leaning his forehead against mine.
"Because I can't lose you," he murmured, voice shaking. "Not again. Never again."
I held him. Just held him—right there, in the middle of a rooftop painted in chaos and blood.
And for a moment, nothing else mattered.
I don't know how long I sat there on that cold rooftop, clutching Lukas, his blood warm against my skin, his heartbeat faint under my touch.
Then—heavy footsteps.
Boots. Many of them.
The metallic creak of the rooftop door burst open.
"Boss!" someone yelled.
A flood of black figures surged in. Lukas's men—armed, fierce, dangerous—eyes scanning the carnage, hands already reaching for their weapons.
"Clear the perimeter!" one of them barked.
Another halted mid-step when his eyes landed on us. "Boss is down! He's bleeding!"
Lukas didn't even flinch.
He was still hunched over, his body shielding mine, arms shaking from exhaustion and fury. His knuckles were raw, cut open from the punches he had thrown.
I looked at him—really looked at him—and I felt something twist in my chest so violently I nearly screamed.
This wasn't the untouchable mafia boss everyone feared.
This was a man who bled, who knelt for love, who screamed inside but stayed silent.
"Lukas," I whispered, brushing his hair away from his eyes. "You're hurt—"
He grabbed my hand. "You're safe. That's what matters."
One of the men stepped forward. "Let us take you both—"
Lukas raised his head, face pale but eyes blazing. "Don't touch her."
The silence that followed was bone-deep. No one moved.
"She's been through hell," he rasped. "If anyone touches her without her saying it's okay… you answer to me."
My throat tightened.
Why was he like this? Why did he keep giving more of himself when he had nothing left to give?
Another man—Markus—came forward. "We need to treat your wounds. You're losing blood, Lukas."
Lukas staggered as he stood, still holding onto me, but his legs buckled. I tried to steady him, but he was too heavy.
"I've got him!" Markus caught him before he fell.
But Lukas shoved him off. "No. Don't touch me. Not until she's okay."
"I'm okay," I lied.
His blood was soaking into my clothes.
"No, you're not," he whispered. "You fainted. You were tied up. You—" His voice broke.
And it destroyed me.
"I wasn't there to stop it."
I touched his cheek, now rough with dried blood and bruises. "You were. You came."
"Too late," he whispered. "Always too late."
The sound of a gurney rolling up the stairs echoed behind us.
"Don't cry," he said, noticing the tears spilling down my cheeks. "Not for me. I'm not worth your tears, Doll."
"You are," I choked. "You're all I have left."
And then, just as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against mine, his body gave out. His knees hit the ground again, and his head slumped against my shoulder.
"Lukas?!"
His breath was faint. Too faint.
"Call the medics!" I screamed. "NOW!"
They came rushing forward, finally allowed to touch him, and I backed away as they lowered him to the stretcher.
His blood trailed behind them, like a red thread tying him back to me.
And I followed it, like my soul was tethered to his.
I sat beside him in the ambulance, holding his hand tightly.
And I made a silent promise.
If he wakes up, I'll never leave his side again.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps—sharp, steady, almost impatient.
I didn't look up at first. My eyes were locked on the glowing red sign above the emergency room door. But the familiar voice made my heart clench.
"Adeline."
I turned slowly.
Nikolas.
My brother.
His suit was wrinkled like he had rushed here, and his brows were furrowed in a way that only happened when he was worried… or angry. But it wasn't just concern in his eyes—it was confusion, too. He scanned me quickly, taking in the bruises, the blood-stained clothes, the hollowness in my expression.
"What the hell happened?" he asked, his voice low but firm.
I didn't answer right away. My lips trembled, but not a word came out. I was too tired. Too shaken. Too scared to relive it all again.
He stepped closer, crouching in front of me.
"Adeline.""I'm fine," I whispered.
"You are not fine." He gestured to the bandage wrapped around my wrist, the faint dried blood on my temple. "Who did this? Where is Lukas? Did he find you? Did he get hurt?"
I looked at him then, and something inside me cracked. "He's in there," I murmured, nodding toward the red-lit door. "He's the one who found me. He got to me before… before they could—"I stopped. My voice gave out.
Nikolas looked over his shoulder toward the emergency room. "Lukas did this? He got you out?"I nodded again.
"And he's the one inside now? Hurt?"A soft, broken yes escaped my lips.
Nikolas clenched his jaw. "He shouldn't have gone alone. He should've called me or—"
"Stop," I said suddenly, sharper than I meant to. My voice cracked, but I didn't care. "Don't you dare blame him. He didn't think twice. He just came for me. He took the risk without blinking, Nik. For me."
Nikolas blinked, stunned at my tone. "Adeline, I know he's your bodyguard, your protector—"
"No." I shook my head. "He's not just my bodyguard."
My voice wavered, the weight of the truth spilling from my lips for the first time.
"He's the one I love."
Silence.Heavy. Dense. Unspoken things thick in the air.
Nikolas straightened, as if my words physically hit him. His mouth opened slightly but no words came. For a moment, he looked almost betrayed, like he had missed something big—something right in front of him all this time.
"I love him," I repeated, softer this time. "Not because he protects me. But because he sees me, Nik. All of me. Even the broken, lost parts. And he still stays."
Nikolas stared at me. And I could see the war in his eyes—trying to reconcile the truth I just told him with everything he thought he knew.
He finally spoke, his voice a little more careful. "Does he know?"
I smiled weakly. "He does now."
I looked back at the red door.
"And if he doesn't wake up… I won't forgive myself for not telling him sooner."
I didn't even hear the footsteps this time—just felt a sudden warmth wrap around me.
Two slender arms embraced me from the side, and I turned my head to see the familiar face I didn't know I needed right now.
Liana Kim.
Nikolas's girlfriend.
But to me… she was so much more than that.
She was family. She was my sister in all the ways that mattered. The kind of woman who could shatter glass ceilings in heels and still crouch beside you on the hospital floor to hold you like you were made of glass.
"Oh, Addie…" she whispered against my hair, pulling me tighter as I finally collapsed into her.
I didn't cry when I was kidnapped.I didn't cry when that man pressed a knife to my throat.I didn't cry when Lukas bled for me, fought for me.
But now… with her arms around me and the weight of everything crashing into me at once—I broke.
I sobbed.
I buried my face into her shoulder and let it all out.
All the fear.
All the guilt.
All the what ifs that clawed at my mind like poison.
She didn't say a word for a while. She just held me. Rocked me gently as my body trembled like a child's.
"I should've told him I loved him sooner," I choked out. "I should've held him back, made him stay."
Liana pulled back just enough to cup my face, her thumbs brushing the tears from my cheeks.
"Addie," she said softly, her voice never wavering, "he knew. Trust me. A man doesn't kneel with a gun to his head unless he knows the heart that beats for him."
Her words shattered something inside me and stitched it back together at the same time.
"He's strong," she whispered. "So are you. And whatever happens next… I'm right here."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Nikolas stood beside us, arms crossed but eyes soft now. No more judgment. No more assumptions. Just quiet understanding.
In that moment, I didn't feel alone.
Liana stayed with me, holding my hand as we waited. As hours passed. As doctors came and went with words that didn't tell me what I needed to hear.
Because the only thing I needed…
Was for Lukas to open his eyes.
And whisper my name.
There was only one question echoing in my mind, again and again, until it drowned out everything else around me.
What if he doesn't wake up?
What if all the blood he spilled… the strength he used to fight for me… was the last thing he ever gave?
The hospital hallway was too quiet for comfort. The ticking clock on the wall sounded like a countdown, not time. My fingers were cold despite the warm blanket Liana had wrapped around me. My nails dug into my palms as I stared at the glowing red "In Operation" sign like it held the answer to my prayers.
Nikolas paced.
Liana held my hand.
My heart was on that operating table.
And then—
The door opened.
A doctor stepped out, mask pulled down, eyes scanning the room. My heart stopped. I stood up so fast the chair screeched against the tiles.
"Family of Lukas Volkoff?"
"Yes!" I rushed forward. "I'm—I'm with him. I'm… Please, tell me he's okay."
The doctor looked tired. His scrubs were stained, and his gloves still had traces of blood. Lukas's blood.
He sighed. "We managed to stop the internal bleeding. The wound near his ribs came dangerously close to a major artery… but we stabilized him."
My knees gave out, but Liana caught me before I could hit the floor.
"He's alive?" I whispered, like saying it too loudly would jinx it.
The doctor nodded.
"He's in critical care, but yes. He's alive. And lucky," he added, shaking his head. "I've seen men with less damage not make it through. He must've had something powerful to hold on to."
I broke.
Tears fell without warning. My hands flew to my mouth as a broken sob escaped me. Liana hugged me tight again, and even Nikolas placed a hand on my shoulder.
"He held on for you," Liana whispered in my ear.
And I believed her.
Because I knew—deep down—that even when he was bleeding, even when he was fading—Lukas was thinking of me.
The doctor gave instructions. No visitors for a while. Limited access. But I didn't care how many hours I had to wait. I'd sit outside his room for days if I had to.
Because I wasn't leaving until he opened those stormy eyes and looked at me again.