bChapter /bb137 /b

bChapter /bb137 /b

bOLIVIA’S /bPOV

bMy /bhands instinctively went down to myp, trembling as I feared the worst. My heart was racing. Was bthis /bit? Had I lost the babyb? /bWas I bleeding bbecause /bof another tragedy?

Then suddenly, a sharp pain shot up from just below my knee.

b“/bOuch,” I hissed through gritted teeth.

The sting brought me out of my spiraling thoughts. I winced and looked down, trying ito /isee through the haze and shadows cast by the surrounding destruction. Everything was dark now. The st had knocked out nearly every streemp in the area, plunging us into an eerie, smoky bnight/b.

I blinked rapidly, my eyes adjusting to theck of light. There was blood. A decent amount. My heart nearly stopped again.

Was iting from me? Or…?

Frantically, I tried to trace the source. After a few seconds of fumbling and squinting, I finally found it–just a small but deep cut on myp. A shard of ss, maybe from ba /bcar window, must’ve flown toward me when the shockwave shattered everything in its path. It wasn’t gushing blood anymoreb, /bjust trickling. It was painful, yes, but it wasn’t dangerous.

“Oh my God…” I breathed out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Jesus. Thank youb, /bLord…”

My hand instinctively went to my stomach, and I cradled it protectively. I didn’t feel anything wrong. No cramping. No bleeding there. I let out ba /bshaky

breath. Relief flooded me, but it was short–lived.

Smoke enveloped the entire area like a suffocating nket. It was thick and acrid, and my throat burned as I inhaled. I nced to bmy /bright and saw Julian slowly sitting up. He looked disoriented, his hand pressed to the side of his head where a small gash was already starting to bleed. He’d taken bthe /b

worst of the st. But he was alive. He was moving. That was all that mattered.

Then I looked for her–my mom.

She had been the first one out. She should’ve been up by now. She took the lightest hit. But when I turned to where she had fallen… she was still lying

there.

“Mom?” I called out, my voice hoarse with fear.

No answer.

Panic surged through me. Ignoring the pain in my legb, /bbI /bcrawled over to her, my breathing fast. I ced ba /bhand on her shoulder and shook her gently.

“Mom, are you ok…”

Still nothing.

“Julian!” I cried, louder now. “She’s not responding–she’s not saying anything, she’s not moving either!”

Julian’s eyes widened and he scrambled over as quickly as his injuries would let him. Without a word, he knelt beside her and pressed his ear bto /bher chest, listening. His face was serious, unreadable. bit my fingernails nervously, unable to breathe, as I waited for him to bsay /bsomethingb–/bbanything/b.

After what felt like forever, Julian finally sat up straight and let out a sigh.

“She’s still alive,” he said. “She’s probably just unconscious.”

Relief hit me like a wave, but it didn’t calm the storm inside. She was alive–but she bwas /bstill vulnerable. What if bshe /bbhad /binternal binjuries/bb? /bbWhat /bbif /bbshe /bnever woke up?

b1/3 /b

b09:12 /bbWed/bb, /bb4 /bbJun /b?i

Then, bI /bstarted hearing it. Click. Click, Click.

I turned around, beyes /bscanning the chaos.

People were gathered behind the perimeter of smoke, holding up their phones. Taking pictures. Filming Recording, Some even smiled, as if they were watching a show.

“What the hell…?” I muttered in disbelief. “What is wrong with you people?!”

I stood up as best as I could, limping forward a few steps.

“Can’t you see she needs help?!” I screamed. “Someone call an ambnce! What are you doing?! Stop recording and do something!”

A few people lowered their phones, shame flickering in their eyes. Others just kept recording. I could feel the heat rising in my face–fury, disbelief, and desperation colliding inside me all at once.

We had just survived a bomb. A literal bomb. And all they cared about was getting views?

They gave themselves a worried look–a silent conversation passed between them, the kind of look people share when they desperately want to avoid being caught in something messy. Something dangerous. Something that might change their lives forever.

“Didn’t you just hear me?” I yelled, my voice cracking with frustration. “There’s no time! We need to get her to the hospital–now!b” /b

I was pleading with them, practically begging, but they still stood there, frozen like statues. Their eyes were wide, their faces pale in the dim light filtering through the smoky air. They just stared. I couldn’t understand it. Were they scared? Did they just not care? I didn’t know.

This… this was what humanity was bing–people more concerned with capturing moments than saving lives. People are too afraid, or too apathetic, to step forward.

I clenched my fists as anger surged through me, hot and heavy. My mother was lying unconscious, possibly slipping away, and they were doing nothing.

Before I could scream at them again, a faint sound broke through the night–the distant wail of sirens. They grew louder with every passing second, but all I could think was: Now? Now they decide toe?

Where were they minutes ago, when we were cuffed to chairs with a bomb ticking in the kitchen? When we were moments from death? What if we hadn’t made it out in time? What if the st had buried us in rubble and silence? Would they have shown up just to take pictures of the remains?

A police vehicle pulled up, lights shing. An officer stepped outb, /blooking around at the scorched wreckage, the bystanders, and the shattered windows of nearby cars. His eyes finallynded on me.

“Ma’am, what happened here?” he asked, walking toward me.

I stared at him, speechless. My lips parted, but no words came out. What could I say? That someone tried to kill me because I broke a contractb? /bThat I was pregnant with a billionaire’s child and now he was trying to erase me from existence?

bI /bclenched my jaw iand /iswallowed the angry retort forming in my throat. bI /bcouldn’t afford to lose control. bI /bturned away, too upset to speak.

Thankfully, someone must have finally made the call. An ambnce arrived soon after. The paramedics rushed over, quickly loading my mom onto the stretcher and wheeling her into the emergency vehicle. Julian and I followed behind.

At the hospital, she was stabilized. The doctors said it wasn’t anything life–threatening–just a few cuts and bruises, and some minor shock. They gave her a painkiller and rmended rest for a couple of hours. But seeing her lying thereb, /bpale and still, felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

I sat beside her hospital bed, staring bat /bthe slow rise and fall of her chest, the steady beep of the heart monitor providing a painful reminder still with me—but barely. I reached out, gently holding her hand in mine. My grip was tight, desperate. I wished I could take her ce.

This should have been me.

be /bbwas /b

Julian had stepped out a few minutes ago. With all our phones destroyed in the explosion, he had to figure bout /banother bway /bbto /bbreach /bbhis /bbountant/b. bIf /b

b09:12 /bbWed/bb, /b4 bJun /b

we bdidn’t /bget in touch with him soon, we wouldn’t be able to pay the hospital bills, or anything else for that matter. bRight /bbnow/bb, /bwe were bhanging /bby

thread.

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to breathe. But rage simmered inside me likeva.

This bwas /ball his fault.

Even though he didn’t know I was pregnant, that didn’t excuse what he’d done. He sent unknowingly… to kill his own unborn child.

All because I refused to y along with his sick little. Game?

men to kill me. To kill Julian. To kill my motherb. /bbAnd /b

I thought I knew who he was. I thought there was still a trace of the man I used to love. But I was wrong. So very wrong.

Because if he was capable of this–if he could order someone’s death bso /beasily–then I had to ask myself:

How many others had he tried to kill or even killed before me?

AD