Graveyard
Savannah had always possessed an uncanny ability to sniff out deception—a quiet, almost imperceptible instinct, but it was always there. It wasn't that she thought everyone was lying, but more like a sixth sense that made her approach the world with caution. It had served her well over the years, especially when dealing with the twists and turns of her life.
But nothing had prepared her for the storm of confusion and grief she felt now, sitting on a bench in a graveyard, with Blaze beside her. Her thoughts circled around her child, Theo, a memory she couldn't fully grasp. The last time she saw him... how long had it been? The gap in her memory felt like a jagged scar, one that her heart bled over every day.
Blaze was the only person who knew the raw truth. And she was starting to wonder if that truth was even real.
Her skepticism was sharp, as always, but it was different now. This wasn't a casual lie or a convenient story. This was about the death of her child—the one thing that had torn her apart more than anything else. She stared at Blaze, her eyes narrowing in disbelief, but her silence was enough to say everything. She wasn't buying it. Not yet.
Blaze, however, wasn't looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the gravestone in front of them, his jaw set tight as he spoke, his voice rough with pain. "Do you still not believe me?"
Savannah didn't answer at first. Instead, she continued to study him, her eyes heavy with both anger and sorrow. Her silence weighed heavily in the air, like a storm hanging just over the horizon.
Blaze's throat tightened as the memory he had tried to suppress for so long surged to the forefront. "It was a month after Oliver kidnapped you. You were still healing from... Theo's death. And were still trying to find yourself some reasons,," Blaze said, his voice laced with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. "I didn't know how to help you, Savannah. You were not yourself, and I couldn't reach you. I had no idea what you were going through."
The pain in Savannah's eyes flared, but she said nothing, her body stiff as she waited for him to continue.
"Oliver was caught, and you were safe—" He swallowed, looking away. "But even after that, things weren't right. You were back at the hospital, working nonstop, trying to do your job like nothing happened." He paused, his voice thick. "You were always the one who tried to keep everything together, even after Theo. I could see how much you were struggling, but you kept pushing through, pretending everything was fine."
Blaze clenched his fists, fighting the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. "But it wasn't fine. It wasn't over. It never was. Oliver... he had broke free from the prison. After we thought he was gone for good, I had my men search for him but there was no trace of him, after we thought he disappeared, we were wrong."
He could see the flicker of confusion in her eyes as she listened intently, her gaze unwavering.
"He was watching you," Blaze continued, the words coming out in a rush. "All that time, even after he was in prison, he was fixated on you. His rage, his obsession—it never faded. It only got worse. His target was, Theo. And then... it was you. He wanted to make sure you'd never get over what happened. He wanted to make you suffer for what he thought you had done."
Savannah's breath caught in her throat, after Theo? What does that mean?
"What do you mean after Theo?" Savannah couldn't keep herself from asking that, something told her, there was something more to find out.
Blaze's words hung in the air like heavy smoke, choking the space between them. Savannah sat there, her hands trembling slightly in her lap, her face pale and drawn as she absorbed the weight of the truth he had just revealed. Her eyes, however, were locked on the gravestone in front of them, but her mind wasn't there. It was somewhere else—somewhere far more personal, far more painful.
Savannah took a shallow breath, her voice so quiet it barely reached his ears. "Blaze," she started, her words jagged as if the weight of them was too much to bear. "Answer me!" She asked, the words hanging on her lips like a plea, like a question she had been holding in for far too long.
Blaze had been bracing for this moment, knowing that one day Savannah would ask him the truth about Theo. But hearing it now—how her son was no longer in her life—it felt like a knife twisted in his gut.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them was quiet, the wind barely stirring the leaves, the graveyard feeling more like a place of mourning than ever before. Savannah's hands were gripping the edge of the bench now, her knuckles white, her gaze still focused somewhere distant, but her eyes were wide, waiting for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted to hear.
Blaze cleared his throat, his voice low and hoarse. "Savannah, I don't think I can fully explain it," he said, trying to keep the emotions from spilling over. "Theo... he died, just before you were attacked by Oliver again. It was after Oliver kidnapped you. The police said it was an accident. A hit-and-run. They couldn't trace who did it, but it didn't matter, not in the way it should have."
He paused, swallowing hard. "It didn't make sense. It was too sudden. Too... clean. I don't think the truth was ever fully revealed. Not to anyone."
Savannah's breath hitched, her face contorting with a painful mix of disbelief and grief. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold the wave of emotion back. "I don't remember him. I don't remember my own son." Her voice broke, her hands now shaking harder as she pulled them into fists. "How—how can I not remember the last time I saw him? How can I not remember... losing him?"
Blaze's chest tightened, and he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees, trying to steady himself. "I know, Savannah. I know. You were in shock when it happened. The trauma from everything—it just... it wiped out everything. Your mind, your memories, all of it. I don't think you ever truly had the chance to process it. Not like you should have." His voice trembled as he spoke, fighting against the tears he could feel welling up. "The accident—what they called the accident—it wasn't right. It wasn't just some random thing. It was planned. It was him, Oliver. He killed Theo, and then he took you out."
The truth had to be said, no matter how much it tore them both apart.
"He was too much of a coward to face you head-on, so he hurt the one thing you loved most. He made sure you would never forget your son's face, even if you couldn't remember it yourself." He took a breath, his voice ragged with grief. "It was cruel, and it was senseless. But it happened. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Savannah's face crumpled in agony, the sorrow that had been hidden beneath the surface now spilling over in full force. Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The grief was suffocating, closing in on her chest as she tried to process the cruel reality of it. The child she had loved, the child she had fought so desperately to protect... gone. Taken from her in the most heartless way imaginable.
She was silent for a long time, the weight of his words sinking in. She was trying to make sense of it all, of how she could have been so close to losing everything without even knowing it. She had been broken, but in ways she hadn't understood until now.
And now, here she was, still sitting in the cold, sterile silence of the graveyard, with nothing but the grave of her child and the pain of the man who had failed her, offering what little comfort he could.
Savannah wiped her eyes, her voice hoarse when she finally spoke. "I wish I could remember him. I wish I could remember... the last time I saw his face." Her voice faltered. "But I don't even know what he looked like anymore."
Blaze's heart cracked open, and for a moment, he just sat there beside her, wishing that he could somehow take away her pain, wishing that he could give her the memories that had been stolen. But he knew he couldn't.
"I know," he said softly, his voice barely audible. "I know. I'm sorry. I wish I could give you those memories, Savannah. But the only thing I can give you now is the truth."
And again silence fell, Savannah looking deep into the distance and Blaze had his eyes fixed on her. And when the silence stretched long, Blaze continued-
"Savannah... you couldn't cope with Theo being gone. The grief—it consumed you, piece by piece. I should have noticed. I should have seen it. But I was so caught up in everything else, so busy with my own demons, thinking you just needed space. I thought you'd pull through, that you'd heal in your own time. I thought you were strong enough to handle it on your own. But I was wrong. So wrong."
Blaze's voice cracked as the words left him. The image of what had happened was still too vivid in his mind, like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
"You didn't just break down, Savannah. You—" he stopped, taking a shaky breath. "You tried to numb it. The pain. The loss. And you... overdosed. I didn't see it coming. I didn't see you slipping away. I wasn't there when you needed me most."
He closed his eyes, fighting to keep his composure, knowing how much worse it would make things for her. But it wasn't something he could hide anymore.
"It wasn't just a slip. It was bad, Savannah. I got the call—too late. You were already in a coma. You had overdosed... and they didn't know if you'd make it. I should've been there." His voice trembled, as if just saying it aloud would make it real. "I wasn't there when you needed me. By the time I got to you, they were rushing you into surgery—your body was already shutting down. The doctors didn't even know if you'd survive the night."
Savannah was still, her eyes lost in thought, the graveyard around them swallowing up the sound of his words. Blaze couldn't bring himself to look at her now. The weight of his failure—his absence when she needed him most—was suffocating.
"Your condition was critical," Blaze continued, his voice breaking with the weight of his guilt. "They worked on you for hours, trying to save you. The damage... it was worse than they expected. You'd slipped so far, I... I never thought you'd end up this way." He swallowed hard, his heart aching. "You were so fragile. So... gone."
The silence between them deepened, both of them trapped in the gravity of the past.
Savannah blinked, her eyes flickering with a deep, aching sorrow. "I don't remember any of it," she whispered. "I don't remember... Theo. I don't remember any of this." Her voice trailed off as her gaze fell to the grave before them.
Blaze swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know you don't, Savannah. I know. But that's the truth." His voice cracked again. "Oliver had a plan. He didn't just want to hurt you. He wanted to destroy you. He wanted to break you, piece by piece."
She was staring at the gravestone again, her fingers twisting in the hem of her jacket. There was so much anger in her expression, so much confusion, but there was something else there too: a flicker of doubt, as though she wasn't sure if she could trust him—trust any of it.
"As for your fresh wound..." Blaze startes again.
"Someone broke into the mansion," Blaze turned his gaze to Savannah's wounded leg, wrapped in sterile gauze. "He broke into your room to be more precise, few days ago." he continued. "He had some ill intentions.....they tried to harm you, which unfortunately led to this in... my presence." He looked at her wound as he told her what had happened, his eyes became filled with regret and he vowed to prevent this from happening again.
She gives him a look that says she's not entirely buying it. Blaze can almost hear the unspoken question: "Are you sure you're not just telling me what you think I need to hear?" Blaze took a deep breath, knowing he have to address her doubt.
"I know this sounds overwhelming, and it's hard to process everything at once," he say, looking at her gently. "I understand why you might be skeptical. But I swear to you, this is what happened. The doctors and nurses can confirm everything I'm telling you." Her eyes flicker with a mix of doubt and vulnerability, and Blaze can see the struggle in her expression. He is not sure if she's trying to reconcile the reality of her injuries with her sense of what's true or if she's just struggling to trust him right now.
"Alright, let's confirm it then," she added "Because this looks like a kindergarten story writing, that you forgot update." she was about to get up from her seat when "It was Oliver," Blaze took this name and Savannah knitted her brows in confusion "Oliver broke into the house because he thought you're the reason why Theo was dead." He told her the rest of the truth about what happened a few days ago. he continued -
Flashback
Baldwin's Mansion
In the underworld, where power and control are paramount, there's an unspoken rule: never let your guard down, no matter the circumstances. Blaze had broken that rule, not by choice, but by necessity. Savannah was in a coma, and he had to be by her side. The only time he ever left her room was to handle the necessary business that kept their lives afloat.
The mansion was supposed to be his sanctuary, a fortress where he could keep the chaos of the outside world at bay. But that night, it felt like the walls were closing in on him, suffocating under the weight of what had happened. She lay unconscious in one of the guest rooms, and every part of him was on high alert, trying to balance the worlds of personal loyalty and ruthless business.
The disturbance began as a faint, unsettling noise-a whisper of movement that cut through the usual hum of the mansion's security system. Blaze's senses, always sharpened by years of navigating the treacherous underworld, were immediately on edge. He'd been running on a razor's edge since she fell into a coma, juggling the grim realities of my empire with the fragile hope of her recovery.
He moved through the mansion with a practiced silence, every step measured, every breath controlled. His instincts told him something was wrong, and he followed that uneasy feeling as he navigated the grand corridors, their opulence now feeling more like a trap than a haven.
The door was slightly ajar, a sight that set off a surge of fear and anger. He pushed it open slowly, his senses on high alert. The room was in disarray-drawers yanked out, papers scattered, and a sense of violation that cut deeper than any physical damage. The scene was chilling.
And then he saw them. Two masked intruders, their faces hidden but their intentions clear, were moving dangerously close to her. One of them held a knife, its blade glinting ominously in the dim light. The other was brandishing a gun, his eyes darting nervously between Blaze and Savannnah. The intent was unmistakable they were not here just to steal, they were prepared to harm.
The sight ignited a fury within Blaze, a raw, primal rage that drove every action. He drew his weapon with practiced efficiency, his movements a blur of precision and purpose. The confrontation that followed was brutal and swift. His mind was a focused whirlwind of strategy and instinct, every move calculated to neutralize the immediate threat.
The room became a battleground-furniture was overturned, the sound of scuffling and struggle filled the air, and the once-quiet space was now a cacophony of violence. He engaged the intruders with a relentless determination, driven by the need to protect her at all costs. Each movement was a blend of controlled aggression and lethal efficiency.
With a spin movement Blaze shot off one of the intrudrs which swiftly landed on the ground leaving its soul and other one became nervous and scared and tried to runaway but Blaze got him by the throat pinned him at the wall his face full of anger and pull out his mask and he became even redder seeing the person who had tried to harm his woman.
"FUCKING BASTARD!" He attacked him with several non countable slamming of his gun on his head which left him bleeding uncontrollably with a whole on his head and soon he became unconcious lay on the ground.
Once the intruders were subdued, he turned his attention back to her. The sight of her-so vulnerable and unaware amidst the chaos-was a stark reminder of what was truly at stake. He checked to ensure she was unharmed, his hands trembling slightly despite the controlled exterior he maintained.
The bleeding foot caught his attention- yeah, she was bleeding despite the efforts to keep her safe, but they didn't work. She was injured on her foot with the knife that slit her legs vertically from top to bottom. For now, he wrapped the piece of clothing around her foot to stop the bleeding.
He called for the security team and his authorities, his voice steady but his mind still racing with the aftermath of the attack. They arrived quickly, their presence a necessary but inadequate comfort. As they began their investigation, he stayed by her side, unable to shake the protective anger that aripped him. No one touches what's His-no one.
Present Time
Back to the graveyard
The weight of his story is palpable, each word heavy with the burden of truth. Savannah can see the anguish in his eyes, the way he struggles to keep his voice steady as he begins to speak. His presence, usually so strong and commanding, now seems subdued, as if the gravity of what he is about to reveal is almost too much to bear.
Seeing her unwrapping her wounds, blaze worriedly questioned her, "What are you doing, Savannah?" She didn't respond, just continued unwrapping them as to find out if what people were saying was true or fabricated. "Savannah, stop right there," he said, but she ignored him and continued her work.
She finally got the chance to see her foot, which left her speechless. She didn't know what to do because her foot really had knife marks going vertically and stitches, as Blaze had said, She held her foot idly for a moment, just staring at it idly.
In response to that, Blaze kneeled in front of her and took her foot in his own hands, asking, "What is wrong with you?" As he wrapped up her fresh wounds. "This is...how-" she was out of words due to confusion, and everything she was trying to refuse was true? Is this really the truth, everything had been right from the beginning?
Before Savannnah can fully grasp what's happening, he outstretched his arms. Without a word, he lifts her into his arms, cradling her in a bridal hold. What are you doing?" Savannah questioned him, Blaze did not say anything and kept walking, ignoring her just as she did before.
"What are you doing, put me down!" Savannah tried to break away, struggling. "Taking you to the hospital, you need to be checked on, stay still for a few minutes, then hit me as much as you like." Savannah stopped struggling by his soft voice.
She can't help but marvel at the surreal nature of this situation. Here she was, grieving the loss of her son, and yet, this man-who she barely know-has taken it upon himself to offer comfort in such an intimate, unexpected way.
The gesture is both jarring and profoundly soothing. There's a part of her that's overwhelmed by the strangeness of it all, but another part is deeply moved by the compassion he's showing. The soft rustle of the leaves and the distant murmur of the wind seem to fade as she focus on the steadiness of his heartbeat, which she can feel through the fabric of his clothes.
His breathing is calm, measured, and it helps to steady her own racing heart. She allow herself to be carried, both physically and emotionally, by this unexpected act of kindness.
The air is filled with a quiet respect, an unspoken acknowledgment of the pain that brought them here. His presence is a gentle reminder that even in the depths of grief, there can be moments of unexpected solace and human connection.
Savannah turned her head slightly, looking up at him. His face is soft, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that speaks volumes despite the lack of words. In this intimate moment, she felt a flicker of something she haven't allowed herself to feel in a long time-hope. Hope that even in the midst of profound loss, there is still kindness and connection to be found.
The surreal nature of being held in his arms amidst the gravestones is not lost on her. It feels like a bridge between the profound sorrow of losing her son and the potential for healing through unexpected sources. As he continues to carry her, she surrender to the comfort of his presence, allowing it to ease the sharp edges of her grief, if only for a short while.
The motion is so fluid, so natural, that it feels as though he's been holding her this way for much longer than just moments. The action is tender, yet it carries a profound strength that reassures her, grounding her in a way she hadn't expected. Her initial surprise gives way to a wave of emotion. She was enveloped in his warmth, the gentle press of his body against her offering a stark contrast to the coldness of the graveyard. Her head rests against his shoulder, and she close her eyes, letting the world around her blur into the background. The grief is still there, but for a moment, it's softened by his unexpected embrace.
In this strange, beautiful moment, she find a small measure of peace. And as they move forward, she was reminded that even in the darkest times, there are glimmers of light and warmth that can offer solace and hope.
Author's Note :
Enjoy reading:)
And if you can please use some power stones, I'd appreciate them <3
Have a good day/night <3<3