ICEBREAKER: DARK RUNION OF FIRE

7. THE ENCOUNTER

Fred POV

I forced my eyes open and was met with silence. The room around me was spotless, bright, and offensively calm. For a few seconds, I genuinely wondered if I was dead. Was this the afterlife? A place where I finally get retribution for all my deeds?

Everything around me was white, from the sheets to the walls, and an IV line hung over my arm while machines beeped steadily beside me. I glanced down at my chest and saw layers of dressing taped over the stitched wound.

It took me a moment to fully understand that I was not dead. I was inside the VIP wing of Lawson Memorial Hospital.

Then the pain hit me properly. Every slight movement sent fire through my ribs like somebody was slowly reopening the wound with bare hands. Panic rose in me instantly, and the monitor beside me began beeping faster. Not just because of the pain, but because I remembered her. Fanny Rose.

The girl I brought into my life, the one I shared my early years with, had nearly taken my life on a whim. I shut my eyes briefly, but the memory returned anyway. Her shaking hands, her tears, and the horrifying moment the blade entered my chest.

“I hate you!” she had screamed that night before stabbing me.

Shutting my eyes again, I exhaled slowly. Out of all the ways I imagined that breakup ending, getting stabbed was certainly not one of them.

A nurse hurried into the room. She looked experienced enough, though painfully ordinary.

“You need to calm down, sir,” she said carefully while checking the monitor.

I frowned at her instinctively. “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

She immediately lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Unfortunately, common sense returned to me fast enough. This woman had my life in her hands.

I steadied my tone afterward. “What’s your name?”

“Helena, sir.”

“Why am I here, and how long have I been unconscious?”

“You were stabbed. Your security team brought you in, and you’ve been unconscious for four days.”

I stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment before laughing bitterly under my breath. Four entire days erased from my life because of one girl.

“Sir?” Helena called cautiously.

“I’m fine,” I muttered before rubbing my face carefully. “What did the doctors say?”

“The doctor said you were lucky. The knife missed your heart narrowly.”

Lucky? It sounded funny. Going there, I intended to end things cleanly. Fanny had become too attached, emotional, and difficult to control. I expected tears, maybe screaming, or one final dramatic attempt to make me stay. Never had I expected violence or imagined having steel buried inside my chest.

The annoying part was that despite everything, some twisted part of me still remembered how beautiful she looked standing there heartbroken.

“What’s your pain level right now?” Helena asked softly, interrupting my thoughts.

“Manageable,” I answered quickly.

That was a lie; every breath felt like punishment.

“Sir, you still need proper rest,” she continued carefully. “In three days, you should be able to move properly, and then we can discharge you.”

“No. I’m leaving now. Get me my phone.”

She hesitated instantly.

“I said now,” I repeated, raising my voice slightly.

She rushed out immediately. Two minutes later, she returned with my phone, and behind her came two members of my personal security team.

“Sir,” one of them reported quickly, “Miss Fanny is currently on the run. We already have men checking bus terminals, train stations, and major roads. She won’t get far.”

I stared at him quietly for a few seconds before looking away again. Idiots. If Fanny wanted to disappear, nobody would find her.

“Fine! Continue the search quietly,” I instructed coldly. “And call Dr. Hargrove from the sports rehabilitation center. I want the strongest recovery treatment available. I’m not spending another week in this bed.”

The guard looked hesitant afterward. “Sir, the doctors advised against stress and movement.”

“I wasn’t asking for advice,” I replied flatly.

“Sorry, sir,” he answered immediately.

A few hours later, Dr. Hargrove arrived carrying enough medication to revive dead athletes. The old man looked irritated the moment he stepped into the room.

“You hockey boys are mentally disturbed,” he grumbled while examining my wound carefully. “You should barely be moving.”

“I can’t stay here for another day. I have responsibilities.”

“You also have stitches across your chest,” He protested.

“And yet I’m still talking,” I replied while staring at him disdainfully.

He sighed heavily before preparing an injection. “Your father is going to kill me if he finds out I approved this.”

“Then don’t tell him,” I concluded calmly.

The medication burned through my veins like fire. I lay there quietly for nearly thirty minutes while the chemicals did their magic, slowly dulling the pain enough for movement.

By evening, I was already walking around the room carefully. The next morning, I discharged myself. Luke nearly lost his mind when he saw me entering my penthouse.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped while staring at my chest. “You’re supposed to be in recovery.”

“I got bored,” I replied casually before dropping onto the couch.

“You got stabbed!”

I winced slightly while adjusting my position. “Can you lower your voice? My ribs already hate me enough.”

Luke stared at me for a few seconds before dragging a hand down his face tiredly. “Fred, this whole thing is becoming a disaster.”

“She stabbed me,” I replied flatly.

“And you pushed her too far,” he fired back immediately. “I warned you about committing to her and how impulsive she can be, but you still dated her. Then one afternoon, you decided to take matters into your own hands. How exactly did you expect her to react?”

My eyes narrowed slightly. “You sound like you’re defending her.”

“I’m saying both of you are insane,” Luke muttered before sitting opposite me. “End the search for her.”

I looked away briefly without answering.

Luke leaned forward afterward. “You know Fanny better than anybody. If she thinks people are hunting her, she’ll disappear permanently. And even if you use your influence to find her, do you really intend to keep one of us in prison forever?”

That part irritated me because it was true. Even before all this happened, Fanny always carried herself like someone prepared to run at any moment.

“She nearly killed me,” I said quietly.

Luke studied my expression carefully afterward before speaking again. “Then why do you still look worried about her instead of angry?”

The room became silent for a few seconds. Unfortunately, I hated the answer to that question myself. Because beneath the humiliation, the pain, and the chaos, there was still something deeply wrong inside me. I still wanted her.

That realization irritated me more than the stabbing itself. A week later, I met with my father, his political advisers, and our legal board to address the scandal.

“You are becoming a public embarrassment,” my father said coldly the moment I entered the room, glaring at me with visible disappointment.