Page 132 of Bleed with Me

“Get me an operating room,” I ordered.

“I’m on it.”

I stepped closer to the bed, my gloved hand pressing against Malin’s abdomen while nurses hurried around us.

In that fucked-up moment, I hated being a surgeon. Because every instinct inside me screamed to be his brother, to sit beside him, to call Zyon and Mom. Instead, I was summing up blood loss and planning an operation.

“Stay with me, sunshine,” I whispered under my breath, and then I looked at the team.

“We’re taking him upstairs.”

I wasn’t a brother right now. I didn’t have the luxury. Right now, I was his only chance.

-54-

Nina

Throwing the keys into the golden porcelain bowl in Dorian’s entry hall, I realized that he wasn’t home. His red Jaguar was parked outside, so I assumed he would be inside, but the house was exactly as I left it.

Dorian’s blue T-shirt, which I wore during the day, was thrown over the armchair. The fallboard on the piano was open because I tried to forget about my problems with playing, and papers were scattered across the desk and floor. The dirty plate with a leftover sandwich sat abandoned on the carpet, and a glass of unfinished wine balanced on the armrest. It was a mess, but when Lucas called, I rushed out, hoping for news about Giovanni and my dad.

There was no news. Lucas was just worried about me. And after thoroughly checking every room, my suspicions were confirmed. Dorian hadn’t returned yet.

Sighing, I cleaned the living room and sent my missing husband a few text messages, but he didn’t reply. After one hour, I was pissed. After two hours, I got anxious and started replaying the day, knowing I had pushed him away, but he was at work, and I needed time to process everything. But when he didn’t call or text after three hours, I dialed Lucas’s number.

“Get me access to the hospital cameras,” I commanded in a rough voice, opening the laptop in Dorian’s office. “Please,” I said, much more gently.

“Nina,” Lucas exhaled. “Don’t stalk him now. Wait until he calls.”

“What?” My forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why would I wait? What happened?”

“You don’t know?” Lucas sounded genuinely surprised. “You haven’t seen the news?”

“No!” I barked. “What is it?”

“It’s Malin,” Lucas replied, the background noise telling me he was in his new hacking den. The buzzing of computers and servers was unmistakable. “He had a terrible motorcycle accident. It’s everywhere. On TV, on the internet, on social media. Everywhere.”

“What?” I exhaled, rapidly tapping on the keyboard. “Is he okay?”

Lucas’s response was lost in the shock the first article I’d found caused. My ears buzzed as I stared at the smashed motorcycle, the cracked helmet near the broken wheel, and the mangled front end of the truck. Red and blue emergency lights illuminated the wreckage while paramedics surrounded two stretchers on the asphalt. One patient was completely hidden behind a cluster of medics and equipment. The other lay motionless beneath a thermal blanket.

I leaned closer, but it was impossible to see which one was Malin. What was possible, though, was to know that no one just walked away from a crash like this. I scrolled through more pictures, but they all showed the same. Total carnage. I didn’t have time to waste.

“I need to go,” I said into the phone, running toward the door.

“Nina!” Lucas yelled, but I was already grabbing the keys and sprinting toward the car.

Dorian needed me.

Half an hour later, I slipped through the back entrance of Dorian’s hospital. Reporters swarmed the front like vultures, so I avoided them altogether. Considering the news coverage, I expected panic, police, maybe even a crowd of worried relatives. Instead, a composed middle-aged woman sat behind the reception desk while nurses stood in the middle of the lobby, exchanging charts and chatting as if nothing extraordinary happened.

“This entrance is closed, Miss,” the receptionist called out to me. “Emergency is this way.”

I ignored her and walked right up to a tall woman with a severe expression, glasses, and a perfectly styled afro. Dressed in a navy pantsuit, she stood in the center of the lobby like a general overseeing a battlefield. Her eyes narrowed the moment she spotted me.

“Can I help you?” the hospital’s CEO, Jessica Ryan, asked, turning toward me.

“Where’s Dorian?” I fired back, ready to run to the elevator. I had the blueprints of this place memorized. I just needed the location because Lucas hadn’t found him on camera.