CHAPTER TWO
1247 Words
Beep!!
Beep!!
Beep!!
That was the first thing he heard.
Sharp, consistent and endless.
A sound that shouldn’t mean anything, yet it feels like it’s been ringing into his skull for days.
His eyes were heavy. His throat felt dry. He couldn't even move his whole body. He tried again, but he was confronted by Pain.
He tried to remember how he got here.
But he got nothing.
His head is wrapped in bandages. His arms feel heavy. Something is wrong, everything is wrong.
Then he hears it, a distant scream.
“Oh my God! He’s awake!”
The voice is high-pitched, as it pierces through the fog in his mind, jarring him back to reality. Footsteps rush in, voices whispering, hands pressing against his body, checking, testing. Someone shines a light into his eyes, and his head aches.
Too much. Too loud.
“What… happened?” he tries to speak, but even his voice is rough and unfamiliar.
Adrian tries to speak, but the world tilts and goes dark again.
The second time he wakes up, the room is quieter.
The machines still beep. But the air is still thick with antiseptic. And this time, he isn’t alone.
He recognizes the woman by his side, his mother.
She sits by his bedside, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her phone. Beside her is Belinda.
Her blonde hair is perfectly curled, makeup perfect, like she belongs in a modeling house instead of a hospital.
When he shifts slightly, she gasps and clutches his hand tightly.
“Oh, My God! Baby, you’re awake.”
His mother exhales, placing a cool hand over his forehead. “You scared us my love,” she says, her voice laced with something between concern and fear. “You were involved in an accident.”
What!
What!
He blinks.
An accident?
He searches for anything that could help him remember how it happened, where he was going. What happened? Who was he with?
But all he got was nothing.
“I…” His voice is hoarse. “I don’t—”
“It’s okay,” Belinda pouts. “You don’t have to force it, baby.” The doctor said, "It’ll take time".
Adrian exhales slowly.
Then, there's a movement at the door.
His eyes flicker up, and he sees her.
A woman with brown, curly hair and sharp blue eyes. She was smiling like she belonged here, like she knew him.
And before he can react, she closes the gap between them and tries to hug him.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice cold.
He watched as her smile dwindled, but she recovered quickly. “It’s me, Adrian, your wife,” she whispered.
Wife!!
The first time he ever looked at her, she had a knife pressed into his throat.
It was supposed to be an ordinary night, his birthday party.
The club was packed. Music boomed through the walls. Everyone wanted a piece of Adrian Cross.
And then she walked in.
Dark red dress. A fake smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. He knew how to spot a trap when he saw one, but she did a good job. He could give her a nine over ten. She did her role well.
Too well.
She approached him slowly, a glass of champagne in her hand. When she was close enough, she “accidentally” bumped into him, spilling the drink down the front of his suit.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with fake remorse.
Adrian looked down at the stain, then backed up at her. His lips curved into a smile, but his eyes were sharp, calculating.
“No harm done,” he said, his voice calm. “But you owe me a dance to make up for it.”
She smiled, letting him lead her to the dance floor. They moved together, their bodies close but not touching. His hand rested lightly on her waist, his eyes never leaving hers.
He let her get close. Let her whisper in his ear, let her tell him her name was Beth, let her pull him into a private room, let her think she was winning.
Until he pinned her against the door, his voice low, as he inhaled her cologne.
“Who sent you?”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Cut the act,” he said through his clenched teeth. “You’ve been watching me all night.” You flirted with me without hesitation, but you’re not drunk Darlin, and you’re not interested in s*x. "So let’s skip the foreplay". "Who sent you?" He said as he held his hand into her hair.
For a moment, she didn’t react. Then, she tilted her head, lips curving.
“You think every woman who wants to sleep with you has a secret plan, you're such a fool?”
“No.” He leaned in, his voice dropping. “Just the ones with knives.”
She moved fast, but not fast enough for him.
She reached for the blade strapped to her thigh, but Adrian caught her wrist, twisting until she let out a gasp.
Then, a flash and a slice of pain.
He had hissed. As he watched, his wrist burned. She had cut him.
His vision sharpened, his rage boiling.
Lena met his gaze, breathing hard, defiant.
And just like that, something shifted.
“You b***h,” he said, his voice cold.
She didn’t wait to find out. She slipped away into the crowd, her heart racing.
He felt not just anger.
Something deeper. Something dangerous.
He blinked out of the memory as the image of the woman standing before him merges with that exact same look from years ago.
The f*****g nerve.
And rage.
Pure, unmistakable anger floods through him immediately.
His jaw tightens. His muscles tense.
Belinda’s fingers tightened around his. “Who the hell let you in?” she half screams
His mother’s voice is sharper. “You have some nerve showing up here, Bitch.”
She doesn’t flinch. She smiles, but there’s something tired in her eyes.
“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Cross.”
“You are not welcome here.”
“I figured,” she murmured to herself.
Adrian exhales through his nose, trying to suppress the sudden hate flowing through him.
Her eyes flicker back to his, searching, expecting.
What does she want? For him to do what?
All he remembers is the gold-digging b***h who had latched onto him before his accident.
Adrian clenches his teeth. He hates her.
And when she sees the hatred in his eyes, something in her shifts.
Something like recognition.
She knows.
Knows that he’s looking at her the same way he did years ago.
He watches as she exhales, stepping back.
“I’ll go,” she says softly.
His mother scoffs. “You should have done that a long time ago.”
She doesn’t look at her. Only at him.
She lingers for a second longer, then turns and walks out.
And the last thing Adrian heard before darkness took him again was his mother whispering under her breath, “Good riddance.”
The darkness is thick. Almost deafening.
But then comes
Flashes of light. Fragments of voices.
And then—
A blurry image.
A woman’s face.
Brown hair. Sharp blue eyes. A smirk that could cut glass.
And then the next instant, he feels a piercing pain in his arm, like a syringe.
And his mind screams.
- Writer
