The world came back in fragments.
A flicker of light.
A rush of air.
And the acrid sting of smoke.
Vivian coughed, her chest tightening as her lungs fought to understand where she was. The air felt thick, heavy with something that didn’t belong. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open …bright white ceiling, the faint beep of a monitor, the rustle of linen … and then it hit her.
A hospital.
Her mind tried to make sense of the pieces. The wedding… the dizzying flashes of lights… the crowd… the unbearable ache in her chest before everything went black.
Her gaze drifted sideways …and froze.
Victor sat in a chair beside her bed, one leg crossed casually over the other, cigarette smoke curling lazily into the air. He looked almost peaceful, as if the hospital room were nothing more than a privat
