Hearing this, Marcus began pleading frantically. "No! Please! I can pay you! I have money—lots of money! Please spare me!"
But no one listened. His fate was sealed the moment he decided to kidnap Anna.
I closed my eyes, letting the medic continue working on my wound. Anna's hand gripped mine like a lifeline, her warmth the only comfort in this cold world.
"Alexander," she whispered through her tears. "I love you. I should have told you sooner. I love you, I trust you, I'll never leave again..."
Those words brought a smile to my lips.
Even drenched in blood, even wracked with agony, even with consciousness slipping away—hearing her say that made everything worthwhile.
The sound of helicopter rotors grew steadily closer. The medic prepared the stretcher while Ivan coordinated the evacuation. The gunfire had ceased, leaving only silence and the metallic scent of blood in the slaughterhouse.
"I love you too," I used my last reserves of strength to say. "Always..."
Then darkness claimed me completely.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Anna
The helicopter blades roared deafeningly overhead, the downdraft so strong I could barely stay on my feet. I gripped the stretcher's edge, refusing to look away from Alexander's pale face.
He'd lost consciousness.
In those final moments before they loaded him onto the helicopter, his eyes had slowly closed, and the hand that had been clutching mine fell limp. I'd screamed his name in terror, but he never responded.
"His blood pressure's dropping!" the medic shouted frantically. "Hemorrhagic shock! We need blood, now!"
Ivan helped me into the helicopter. In the cramped cabin, medical personnel swarmed around Alexander—IVs, blood transfusions, oxygen, vital signs monitoring. The machines shrieked their warnings, each alarm hitting my heart like a hammer.
"Alexander!" I tried to get closer, but the medics blocked me.
"Ma'am, let us work!" one of the doctors barked. "Sit down and buckle up!"
I was forced into a corner seat, but my eyes never left him.
He lay on the stretcher, pale as death, his lips colorless. The thickbandages were already soaked through with blood, crimson still seeping out. The heart monitor's line grew increasingly erratic, beeping frantically.
"Heart rate dropping!"
"BP sixty over forty!"
"Prep the epinephrine!"
The medics' voices mixed with the rotor noise, each word making my heart sink deeper.
"No... no..." I sobbed, tears streaming down my face. "Please save him... please..."
Ivan sat beside me, his face grim, knuckles white as he gripped the handrail. Even this usually composed man had worry flashing in his eyes.
The helicopter raced through the night sky, New York's lights sprawling below, but my world had shrunk to just that man lying on the stretcher, hovering between life and death.
"Hold on, Alexander," I whispered, knowing he couldn't hear me. "Please, for me, for Sofia... you have to hold on..."
The ten-minute flight felt like a century.
When the helicopter finally touched down on the hospital's rooftop helipad, a team of doctors and nurses were already waiting. They quickly transferred Alexander to a gurney and rushed toward the elevator.
