Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 17:The Breath of Life

The city lights stretched into long, blurry lines as the rain poured down without mercy. Water hammered against the windshield so hard that the wipers struggled to keep up, moving back and forth in a desperate rhythm. Still, William didn’t slow the car. His hands were tight around the steering wheel, knuckles pale, eyes locked on the road ahead.

Behind them, a black SUV tore through the storm, its headlights glowing through the rain like the eyes of a hunter that refused to give up.

“Hold on!” William shouted, his voice tense and shaky.

He yanked the wheel to the left, and the car skidded into a narrow alley. The side of the car scraped against the brick wall, sending sparks flying into the dark, but William didn’t ease off the gas. The engine roared as he pushed the car forward.

Maria sat beside him, clutching the blue casing tightly against her chest as if letting go would mean losing everything. Her breathing was fast, and she kept looking over her shoulder.

“He’s getting closer, William!” she cried. “He’s going to hit us!”

“Not if I can help it,” William muttered through gritted teeth, refusing to look back.

A second later, the SUV lunged forward and slammed into their rear bumper. The impact made their car shake violently. The tires lost grip on the wet road, and the car started to spin sideways. For one terrifying moment, they were facing the bright headlights of a city bus coming straight toward them.

Maria screamed.

William’s heart pounded, but his hands moved on instinct. He fought the steering wheel, forcing the car back into a straight line just in time. He didn’t check the damage. He didn’t dare look at the SUV behind them. His eyes flicked only once—to the red digital clock glowing on the dashboard.

14 minutes left.

“William, there’s construction ahead!” Maria shouted, pointing through the rain. “The bridge—it’s blocked!”

Up ahead, orange cones, wooden barriers, and heavy machines covered the road. The bridge wasn’t finished, and a wide gap split the asphalt.

“I see it,” William said quietly, his face going cold and focused. Instead of slowing down, he pressed harder on the accelerator. “Maria… brace yourself.”

“What?” she gasped, but it was already too late.

The car crashed straight through the wooden barricades. The boards shattered and flew into the air. For a split second, the car lifted off the ground. Maria’s stomach dropped as they flew over the dark gap below. The world seemed to freeze in that single heartbeat.

Then they slammed back onto the road with a violent thud.

The suspension groaned loudly, and a tire burst with a sharp, explosive pop. The car wobbled, but William kept it under control. The hospital was only three blocks away now.

Behind them, the black SUV tried to copy their jump. But it hit the gap at the wrong angle. The front of the vehicle smashed into a concrete barrier. The SUV spun wildly, crashing into a stack of steel beams. Metal screeched, glass shattered, and the vehicle flipped onto its side.

For a brief second, through the rain and broken glass, William saw Silas’s face inside the SUV—twisted with anger and frustration.

Then the SUV disappeared from view.

William didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. The damaged car dragged itself forward, one tire completely ruined, the metal rim grinding against the road and throwing sparks behind them like a trail of fire.

He turned sharply into the hospital driveway and finally slammed on the brakes right in front of the emergency entrance.

The engine sputtered and died. The rain kept falling.

For the first time since the chase began, William allowed himself to breathe.

The Final Sprint

The car hadn’t even come to a full stop when Maria threw the door open and jumped out. Her shoes splashed into a puddle as she ran, not caring that the rain was still pouring down. Within seconds, she was drenched, her hair stuck to her face and her clothes clinging to her body, but she didn’t slow down.

She pushed through the sliding glass doors of the hospital and burst into the bright, sterile lobby.

“The antidote! I have it!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the white walls and polished floors.

People in the waiting area turned in shock, but Maria didn’t notice them. Her whole world had shrunk to one single thought—Hazel.

William stumbled in right behind her. His breathing was heavy and uneven, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His shirt was torn at the shoulder from the fight at the warehouse, and dried blood mixed with rainwater ran down his arm, but he ignored the pain.

At the end of the hallway, near the red ICU doors, a team of specialists was already waiting. Sarah had kept her word—they were ready.

They didn’t waste time asking questions. The moment Maria reached them, one of the doctors gently but quickly pulled the blue casing from her shaking hands.

“Where is she?” Maria gasped.

“In there,” another doctor said, already turning back toward the ICU. The doors swung open, and the team rushed inside, disappearing into the room where Hazel lay fighting for her life.

Maria tried to follow them, but a nurse stepped in front of her and held her by the shoulders.

“You can’t go in there, honey,” the nurse said softly. “Let them work.”

Maria’s strength suddenly drained from her body. She staggered forward and leaned against the frosted glass window of the ICU. Her hands trembled as she pressed them against the cool surface, trying to see through the small gap in the curtains.

Inside, she could make out Hazel’s tiny figure lying on the bed, surrounded by machines and people moving quickly around her. Wires ran across her chest, and a tube helped her breath. She looked so small, so pale, almost like she was already slipping away.

Maria’s throat tightened.

She watched the heart monitor beside Hazel. The green line moved slowly, weakly.

Beep…

Beep…

Each sound felt farther apart than the last.

Maria pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. Tears mixed with rainwater on her cheeks.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “No, Hazel… please. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave Mar.”

Inside the room, one of the doctors pulled the auto-injector from the blue casing. Without hesitation, he pressed it against Hazel’s thigh and pushed.

The small click of the injector was barely visible through the glass, but Maria knew exactly what had happened.

She held her breath.

Ten seconds passed.

Then twenty.

Nothing changed.

The steady beeping of the monitor stretched into a long, flat drone that filled the room like a warning siren.

Maria’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Inside, the doctors slowed down. Their movements became heavier, tired. One of them looked at the others and gave a small, defeated shake of his head. Another doctor reached toward the clock on the wall, ready to note the time.

Maria’s eyes widened in horror.

“No!” she screamed, slamming her hands against the glass. “She’s not gone! Look at her! Hazel, wake up! Please, baby, wake up!”

Her cries echoed down the hallway, raw and desperate.

Then, suddenly—

The long, haunting drone from the heart monitor broke.

Beep.

Maria froze.

Another spike appeared on the screen.

Beep… Beep.

Inside the ICU, the doctors turned back to the monitor in shock. The green line was moving again, rising and falling stronger with each second.

Hazel’s small chest jerked suddenly. Her body gave a violent shudder as her lungs pulled in a sharp, desperate breath, as if she had been underwater and had finally reached the surface.

One of the nurses gasped. “She’s back!”

Another quickly checked the monitors. “Her vitals are stabilizing! The neurotoxin is neutralizing!”

Maria collapsed to her knees in front of the glass, her hands still pressed against it as sobs burst out of her chest—this time not from fear, but from overwhelming relief.

Behind her, William finally allowed himself to lean against the wall. He closed his eyes, his body shaking as the tension that had kept him standing finally let go.

For the first time that night, they weren’t running anymore.

And inside the ICU, Hazel was breathing.