His face twisted at Silas's wound. He barked orders. Guys lifted Silas onto a stretcher and loaded him into a car. Others handled Tomaso's body and dragged Vanessa from the corner where she was tied up.
I climbed in with Olei, watching Marcus apply emergency first aid in the back.
"Pakhan will be okay." Marcus pulled out a med kit, working fast on the wound. "We'll get him to the hospital quick."
Silas's lips were colorless. If not for the faint rise of his chest, I'd have thought he was— I just hugged Olei tight. Thirty minutes later, we hit the hospital. Medics in white rushed Silas into the ER. Only then did I breathe a little easier.
Late night, the hospital corridor stayed quiet, reeking of disinfectant. I sat on the bench outside the OR, staring at the glowing red light.
I'd sent Olei off with Marcus to grab food—he had to be starving. Now it was just me and Julian. He stood there, silent.
"Anthea," he finally said, like he'd been chewing on it forever. "I'm sorry."
I looked at him, waiting.
"I helped Vanessa, got you and Olei kidnapped, left Silas fightingfor his life." He stared at the floor, avoiding my eyes. "I know sorry doesn't cut it, but I have to say it. When Silas wakes, I'll apologize to him too."
I stayed quiet for a bit. Was I furious? Hell yes. If Julian hadn't sold us out, we'd never have ended up in Vanessa and Tomaso's hands. Silas wouldn't have taken that bullet for me.
But I remembered how he'd helped before—figuring out custody fights, listening when I needed to vent. He wasn't all bad.
"Good thing you didn't stick with them in the end," I said.
Julian froze, then exhaled long and hard. He looked up and sat beside me.
"I lost," he said, voice rough.
I turned to him.
"When that bullet came flying, I was closer to you than Silas. I wanted to jump in, protect you. But instinct kicked in—I froze, legs nailed to the spot." He paused. "Silas was farther away, but he didn't hesitate. He just lunged."
I didn't speak, but something stirred inside me.
"That moment, I knew—his gut reaction is to shield you." Julian met my eyes. "He really loves you, Anthea."
His words hit, my chest tightening with ache.
"I already knew," I whispered.
From the amusement park, when I learned he'd gone gray at the temples for me, worn my ashes around his neck, even thought about ending it all to join me—I knew. He loved me, in his twisted, obsessive way. The hurt was real, but so was the love.
Julian blinked, then gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, you did. I was the one fooling myself, thinking I could make you happy."
I didn't reply. Silence stretched between us. The ER light stayed red—who knew how long?
My heart twisted, every second agony.
"Mommy!" Olei's voice echoed down the hall.
I turned—Marcus led him over. He yanked free and bolted into my arms.
"I wanna stay with you, Mommy," he said, looking up worried. "You might be scared alone."
"Mommy's not scared." I hugged him tighter. "With you here, I'm not afraid of anything."
The OR door swung open. A doctor in scrubs stepped out, pulling off his mask, nodding at me.
"Surgery went well," he said. "Bullet's out—no damage to major organs. He's still out, but he's strong. He'll recover fast."
