Chapter 2
586 Words
"Serena, I am not leaving," he had said back then. "If I cannot defuse this bomb, I will die right here with you and our daughter. I am not afraid of death."
But the man standing before me now was a stranger to those words.
As I stood there with my heart in pieces, Yara cowered behind him, and she shot me a vicious, gloating smirk.
This woman was doing this on purpose.
Before I knew it, my hands were around her throat.
Then a sharp click echoed through the room, and Zane panicked as he slammed his palm down on the detonator.
In that lightning flash of a moment, only one thought burned through my mind.
My daughter and I were done with this bastard.
The explosion was small, but shrapnel still ripped through my skin.
Pain lanced through me like a million white-hot needles.
Yet Zane dove to shield Yara instead of me.
"Serena, have you lost your goddamn mind?" he roared.
A barely visible scratch marked Yara's cheek, but he acted like she had been maimed.
That same worried expression had been on his face just weeks before when he had gently bandaged my cut finger and murmured, "I can't have my wife getting hurt. Let me handle this next time."
Now all that tenderness belonged to her.
Blood dripped down my face, and each drop screamed his betrayal.
The world tilted, and then everything went black.
I came to in a sterile hospital room.
"Look what you've done," Zane's voice cut through the haze. "Yara's hand is ruined. Her entire career could be over because of you."
I ignored his tirade, and I frantically searched for my phone.
Only three hours remained on the timer.
I grabbed his arms, and my voice broke as I spoke. "Three hours. Are you really going to let our daughter die?"
He shoved me away with a sneer. "I have four hours. That's more than enough time."
He smiled, and his smile turned cruel. "So desperate to see her? Then atone by giving Yara your skin."
I thrust out my arms without hesitation. "Take it. Take every inch. Just go save her right now."
Zane's face twisted in disgust as he took in my frantic, unhinged appearance, but he said nothing.
To keep the grafted skin viable, he forbade the doctors from using anesthesia.
Tears flooded my cheeks uncontrollably, yet I kept my eyes fixed on the clock.
Each tick of the timer felt like a lifetime.
The moment the procedure ended, I did not wait for bandages.
I grabbed Zane's sleeve with my raw, bleeding hands. "Please, go save her now. Any longer, and it will be too late."
Blood dripped onto his arm.
He flinched, and he pulled away before he brushed the blood off with cold indifference. "Showing up early would prove Yara's calculations were wrong. How could she ever bounce back from that? Her entire career would be over."
He sneered, and his tone turned icy. "A mother as overbearing as you? No wonder she feels suffocated."
With a glance, he signaled the doctor.
The syringe loomed in the doctor's hand, and the needle glinted under the fluorescent lights. "You are being hysterical."
"No."
I fought for half a breath, but darkness swallowed me before I could finish the word.
I did not know how long I had been unconscious.
I only knew that the ear-splitting explosion blaring from my phone shattered the silence, and the sound jerked me back to consciousness.
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