Celina's body reacted before her mind did. Her shoulders pressed slightly deeper into the mattress, her fingers trembling faintly as she tried to settle back into her previous position on the bed. But pain suddenly shot through her waist where the stitched cut rested beneath the thin hospital gown.
A brutal reminder that her body still ached terribly.
The footsteps stopped and silence swallowed the room whole.
A shadow appeared by the doorway, which was Tall.
Broad.
Still.
From where Celina laid weakly against the bed, the dim hallway light behind him revealed pieces of him one after the other like darkness itself was peeling away piece by piece to expose the man standing there.
First came the outline of his height towering against the entrance. The kind that instantly dominated a room without effort.
The way the width of his shoulders stretched powerfully beneath the dark fabric hugging his lean body. One shoulder rested lazily against the edge of the doorway while one long leg crossed slightly over the other frighteningly still. One hand rested lazily inside his trouser pocket while the other hung beside him in deceptive calmness.
But there was nothing calm about him.
The light crawled upward slowly. His long powerful legs encased in dark trousers and a narrow masculine waist.
The sharp expensive cut of a black suit wrapped around a lean body built with frightening strength beneath it, tailored to suit him.
Then finally—
His face.
Cold.
Sharp.
Deadly.
Half of his features still remained hidden beside the shadows but the visible side was enough to make fear quietly settle inside her chest while the hallway light brushed against the other half, revealing smooth pale skin stretched over hard masculine features carved too perfectly to look harmless.
His jaw looked lethal enough to split skin while his lips remained expressionless.
But his eyes…God!! Those eyes which were dark blue. Piercing and watchful.
The kind of eyes that could strip secrets out of a person without a single word spoken. Watchful eyes. Sharp eyes. Eyes that looked trained to notice the smallest movements even in silence.
And right now, those eyes remained fixed on her unmoving body with an intensity that made the room feel smaller.
It grew heavier, thickening into the room like a slow, oppressive weight that made the atmosphere feel dangerously charged.
Even the air itself seemed to stiffen in his presence.
Celina's eyes widened slightly, her pupils trembling as she struggled to focus through the blur of fear and tears clouding her vision.
Her throat moved, no sound refused to come out. Not in this kind of suffocating tension hanging heavily above her head.
The figure shifted slightly, and the dim hallway light finally brushed across him properly.
A man.
Celina held her breath as the AC stirred cool air across her damp cheeks, neck and trembling body. Easing some of the heat left behind by her cries after waking up terrified moments ago, screaming as memories crashed violently through her mind—including the hidden parts she couldn't even remember before.
For one fleeting second, the cold breeze almost made her feel strangely fresh again, as though she hadn't shattered apart moments ago.
But her mind screamed danger before she even understood why.
Another set of footsteps entered the room.
It was different even lighter. Each step carried a welcoming softness unlike the first heavy footsteps that had entered and remained near the doorway like a silent threat that made her shudder with fear waiting patiently in darkness.
These footsteps carried familiarity in professional ease and the door clicked shut behind them.
The footsteps drew closer, measured carefully in every movement, and Celina's ears sharpened instantly. She tried her best to keep her expression blank, resisting the urge to tighten her eyes too hard from fear.
A dark overwhelming presence shifted deeper into the room.
The same hard measured footsteps moved away from the doorway before settling somewhere near the black leather settee opposite her bed. The expensive material sank inward with a soft muffled creak beneath his weight.
Even seated, his presence swallowed the entire room whole.
The silence around him felt alive, cold dominating and controlled as though violence slept quietly beneath his skin waiting for the slightest reason to awaken.
Without opening her eyes, Celina could feel him watching her carefully. Inspecting her. Not casually and probably not harmlessly.
It felt like he was studying every breath leaving her body… waiting for her to suddenly wake up or perhaps waiting for something worse or reveal something she herself didn't even know yet.
It made unease crawl slowly beneath her skin.
Who was he?
Why did he feel so dangerous?
And why did it feel like one wrong move from her would instantly change the atmosphere in this room into something terrifying?
A soft rustling sound followed and the lighter footsteps stopped beside her bed and rubber gloves snapped softly.
The doctor checked the flow of fluid running through the tube before carefully peeling the tape securing the IV line against the back of her hand. He gently removed the catheter, and pressing cotton over the area, in light pressure against her skin.
"She's healing faster than expected," the doctor quietly murmured while reaching for the bandage wrapped around her head.
The man near the settee remained silent.
Celina felt careful fingers lift her chin slightly. It was wrinkled fingertips, worn with age, yet surprisingly gentle against her skin,
Firm but controlled in the practiced way of someone who had spent years working with patients. As the doctor slowly loosened the bandage wrapped around the faint wound on her forehead.
"Much better," he added quietly, a smile playing on his lips while unwrapping antiseptic packets. The sharp clean scent filled the air instantly.
Cold antiseptic brushed against her skin moments later, the sting was cold enough to make her stomach tense faintly beneath the blanket.
"The swelling has reduced almost completely," the doctor continued while inspecting the healing cut carefully beneath the light. "It's healing beautifully like it was never there."
"No sign of infection anymore," he added calmly as he removed the dressing completely before adjusting the monitor attached beside her bed.
Then the relaxed voice finally drawled out from the farther part of the room.
"Doctor… how's she?"
The voice was soft yet masculine, controlled without sounding weak. It almost made Celina open her eyes instantly.
As much as her imagination was running wild, she forced herself to remain perfectly still. She couldn't expose herself to their notice yet.
The voice didn't sound familiar in her head.
It wasn't like his.
Not like her handsome stranger's voice—that dangerously deep velvet-smooth voice that wrapped around her senses like dark whiskey poured slowly over burning fire.
And whenever he spoke Greek, his thick accent became devastatingly sensual… dangerously arousing… the kind of voice that lingered beneath her skin long after the words ended.
His fingers suddenly touched her forehead where the bandage once wrapped around it. Surprisingly, his fingers against her bare skin more than twice, made it hard not to notice how soft his hands felt. Almost…
"No need to wrap another bandage around it," his calm voice drawled, abruptly pulling her from her thoughts. "Regular cleaning would heal it faster."
His fingers trailed carefully over the slight cut near her hairline. The touch lingered more than once and it became impossible not to notice how refined his hands felt.
"Twice a week will be sufficient. It was considerably swollen and bleeding at first; now it is little more than a minor wound."
His fingers still lingered against her forehead, making her complete her thoughts about his hands.
Old hands.
Not weak old hands but experienced ones which was slightly roughened by age, with faint veins visible beneath his thinned skin, yet steady in every movement.
The kind of hands shaped by years spent stitching wounds, holding fragile lives together, and pulling people back from death itself.
Light wrinkles marked his knuckles and fingers, quiet signs of time etched into them, yet not a single touch trembled against her skin.
Careful.
Gentle.
Certain.
His touch carried a calm, fatherly warmth that settled softly against her forehead instead of discomfort. Patient hands. Controlled hands. Hands that knew exactly how much pressure to apply without causing pain.
Every movement came with the steady confidence of long experience—neither rushed nor uncertain, but practiced in a way only years of saving lives could teach.
The hands of a renowned doctor who had spent decades saving lives.
The kind of hands people trusted without question the moment they touched them.
Wait? Was the doctor old?
Was that why his touch carried so much warmth? His patience was overwhelming. Very few younger doctors carried this kind of patience and calmness unless shaped deeply by years of experience.
"Covering it again isn't necessary," the doctor concluded softly. "It may trap moisture and even encourage pus formation."
The man gave a short hum.
His head tilted once in acknowledgment, fingers brushing lazily against the armrest while one powerful leg crossed over the other. Controlled. Calm. Yet somehow every little movement from him still carried danger.
The doctor adjusted the monitor before refixing the drip attached to her palm, studying the green lines moving steadily across the screen.
He pushed his glasses slightly upward.
"In due time," he answered, relief evident in his voice while glancing at her treatment chart. "She would regain full consciousness soon. She has been responding to treatment over two weeks ago."
Two weeks ago?!
The words reverberated violently through Celina's mind.
So she had been responding to treatment for over two weeks… but did that mean she had been unconscious for nearly a month—or even longer?
God!!
It felt impossibly long and shocking that they were still alive.
Celina couldn't even remember what had dragged her out from the darkness of unconsciousness and slowly returned her to reality even before opening her eyes.
"It could take a few days… or perhaps even tonight."
Tonight!!
Her heartbeat nearly slammed against her ribs.
If they discovered she was awake now, this room would become something far worse than a hospital room, perhaps a prison.
"Or tomorrow," the doctor corrected, reassuring words slipping her mind out of her thoughts. "There's already a strong positive response from her body."
Celina forced herself to ease her breathing before the monitor betrayed her. The machine beside her monitored pulse rate, breathing rhythm, heart acceleration and every unstable change occurring inside her body.
"The green lines are increasing." The controlled masculine voice rang out again, this time edged faintly with alarm.
The expensive leather of the settee stretched sharply beneath him, the material giving a strained creak under the sudden force of movement as his body jerked forward slightly.
One hand gripped the edge tightly, his knuckles hardening faintly beneath the dim light even though he had barely risen an inch from the seat, like restrained panic was the only thing forcing him to remain still.
His other hand moved instantly toward the armrest as though ready to stand at any second...
"Doctor… is something wrong with her?" Panic tore through his voice. A voice that had once sounded measured. Controlled. Clinical like a man who carefully weighed every word before speaking.
The dangerous man rose immediately, his heavy footsteps struck against the polished floor faster this time.
His overwhelming presence filled every inch of the room as he moved closer before stopping roughly a meter away from her bed. Alert blue eyes remained fixed on her while tension hardened his features dangerously.
He didn't want her dead.
Not yet.
What would he tell his best friend? That the woman Leonardo protected with his own life died under his watch?
The thought alone made his jaw tighten viciously. Just because her pressure accelerated too suddenly on the monitor?
Never! Impossible!!
He was too certain Leonardo's condition would worsen upon hearing such heart-wrenching news because the state he had seen Leonardo in while shielding this fragile woman was still impossible for him to comprehend.
Leonardo de Caruso. A man whose single glare could make powerful men tremble.
Yet he nearly died protecting a woman. Not just any woman—This woman.
This feeble woman lay beneath white hospital sheets, looking so fragile her neck seemed it could snap beneath his two fingers—yet she was also the reason Leonardo lay in that condition, barely clinging to life.
The man who never bent for anyone had been brought to his knees. Not by war. Not by power—but because he had chosen to take the impact meant for her.
And Leonardo de Caruso never let anything touch what he had decided to protect.
Leonardo didn't just protect her. He had covered her with his entire body like she was something sacred.
Untouchable. It was beyond unbelievable. The kind of thing that could make the world stop turning for a second.
For now, she had to survive.
Because until Leonardo regained consciousness, nothing else mattered.
Nothing.
Not until he understood why this woman held such terrifying importance in Leonardo's life—important enough for a man like Leonardo to walk willingly into death and hellfire for her without hesitation.
Fear crawled violently down Celina's spine.
Her hands trembled faintly beneath the blanket.
God! How long was I supposed to keep pretending? She forced each shaky breath to calm herself, fighting with all her strength to steady the pulse monitor and keep her heartbeat under control.
"How am I supposed to hold this in for long?" she screamed silently inwardly. "Don't tell me God… this is how I'll actually die."
"This syndrome is common among patients fighting unconsciousness," the doctor explained tersely while making notes across her chart. "Especially when their memories remain trapped within the trauma that caused the condition."
'Quite the opposite', Celina groaned inwardly, exhausted from maintaining the lifeless expression frozen on her face.
It was better this way. Safer. Much safer if they believed that was the cause instead of discovering she had already regained consciousness.
She was spared from any consequences that might follow if they found out she was awake.
Actually… the doctor wasn't entirely wrong.
Because she remembered feeling something similar while trapped in unconsciousness.
And worse! Her handsome stranger. She was trapped here and the thought of him struck painfully through her chest.
What if he was suffering the same thing right now? What if part of the reason he still remained unconscious was because he was trapped somewhere inside his own mind too?
"But why didn't she go through what he was enduring? Why did the bad situations she found herself in never seem to harm her, yet always leave the person who saved her broken instead?"
Pain squeezed tightly around her heart.
Why did terrible things always happen to those who came close to her?
Especially the ones she held dearly in her heart.
She quickly forced herself to stop thinking further, before tears gathered beneath her lashes or worse—a sob escaped her throat.
The consequences would be too much to bear. Celina simply didn't want to be caught, not by any means whatsoever.
Sooner or later they would leave and she would finally end this exhausting act. Though from the look of things… that might not happen anytime soon.
The older man sighed softly before removing his gloves.
Under the bright hospital lights, Celina fought the urge to open her eyes, torn between observing or keeping her eyes closed, careful not to let her heartbeat accelerate on the monitor.
She desperately wanted to see the man who had treated her with so much patience and gentleness.
Was it worth the risk to look at him?
It felt dangerous… yet tempting.
Still, the doctor's presence was comforting.
Like her father. The thought tore cruelly through her chest.
Her heartbeat nearly accelerated again thinking about what state her father must be in after she had been gone for over two weeks.
Pain stung sharply through her chest, her pulse was almost picking up once again and she didn't want that.
Quickly, she forced herself to bury every thought connected to the people she loved but who were 'not safe'; thoughts that would terrify her if they surfaced. She couldn't let her emotions overwhelm her.
Slowly… very slowly, she studied the man standing before her through her lashes, careful not to be caught.