Chapter 3: The Awakening

Five days had passed, and he still hadn’t woken up.

I could get in serious trouble for this. If he died here, I’d be arrested for not taking him to a hospital.

But if I hadn’t saved him that night, he’d already be dead.

Still, that thought didn’t ease the knot in my chest.

I sighed, watching his steady breathing. At least he’s alive, I told myself.

I began mixing the medicine I’d been giving him every few hours. His fever had broken, his pulse steady. Now that he was clean, I could see his face clearly for the first time.

And God, he was handsome.

Strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, lashes too long for a man. He didn’t look like someone who’d given up on life. More like someone the world had worshiped, a model, maybe, or a movie star, who’d grown tired of the noise.

My eyes trailed over him, the bandages I’d wrapped around his chest, the faint rise and fall of his breath.

What a beautiful body, I thought, heat creeping into my cheeks.

Then guilt followed right after. Get a grip, Isla. He’s a stranger. I turned around from him.

If he wakes up and turns out to be a rich guy I'll just ask for money as a reward. Nothing is far anymore right?

Who am I kidding? He tried to kill himself so he's definitely going to be really angry.

But then I turn. What made my pulse jump was the man lying on my couch, sitting up. Awake.

My mysterious stranger.

For days he had been motionless, caught between life and death, and now he was staring at me with sharp, suspicious eyes. His movements were slow, painful, but alert. Too alert.

“You’re awake,” I whispered.

His gaze sharpened, voice low and rough. “Where am I?” His tone was rough, wary, commanding, as if he had every right to demand answers from me.

“My apartment,” I replied, straightening in my chair, trying to mask the sudden nerves tightening in my chest.

“Why?”

I clenched my jaw. “Because you were drowning, and I don’t have the habit of leaving people to their deaths.”

I said it casually, though my heart was hammering. His stare was unnerving, sharp, assessing, dangerous. Even weak, he radiated menace.

“You went into the lake for me?” His voice was low, heavy.

I exhaled, pushing a hand through my tangled hair. “Not quite. I was walking, and you..” I paused, remembering that haunting image of him standing still on the ice. “You strode onto the lake to take your life.”

He said nothing, only stared at me.

I forced myself to keep calm and lifted the cup of medicine I had set aside earlier. “Drink this,” I urged, offering it to him.

But instead of taking it, his hand shot out and gripped my wrist, hard. He pulled me closer, forcing me down onto the couch. In a heartbeat, he was on top of me.

“Who sent you?” he growled.

Pain shot through my wrist, but I kept my voice steady. Is the man’s brain frozen already?

“No one sent me. Now get off me, you’re hurting me.”

Suspicion flickered in his eyes as his face came dangerously close to mine.

“You’re trying to poison me,” he hissed. “You think I’m a fool?” His grip tightened.

And that was it.

I punched him square in the face.

His head jerked back, more in shock than pain. He hadn’t expected that.

My palms slammed against his chest, trying to push him away, but he didn’t move.

I glared up at him, my frustration boiling over.

“You tried to kill yourself in that damn lake, and now you’re asking if I poisoned you? Who gave you permission to commit suicide? I almost died dragging your massive body out of the water! You’ve been unconscious for five days, and this is how you thank me?”

His lips curved faintly, the smallest, most infuriating smirk.

“You’re good at acting.”

The audacity of him.

My chest tightened, and I almost exploded right there.

“Were you even listening, you numbskull?” My voice cracked with frustration as I jabbed a finger against his chest, then froze when I felt the hard muscle beneath the bandages I’d wrapped myself.

For a heartbeat, I hesitated. But the fury carried me forward.

“I dragged you out of that lake. I kept you breathing. I sat up for five whole nights making sure you didn’t die... and you sit here accusing me of poisoning you? You think this is some kind of joke?!”

Finally, he let go of my wrist. And of me.

The heat of his grip lingered, a phantom ache that made me rub my skin without realizing it.

His gaze was sharp, calculating, but something inside it shifted. His jaw clenched, eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite name, shock, disbelief, maybe even guilt. His voice was lower when he spoke this time. “Five days?”

I frowned, still catching my breath. “Yes. Five.”

He went still. Completely still. It was the kind of silence that pressed in, heavy, like a storm about to break. His eyes darted toward the clock on the wall, the faint tick-tick-tick filling the room, and his expression hardened as though those wasted days carried consequences far larger than I could see.

And then he looked back at me, and in that silence, I realized this wasn’t just a man waking from near-death. This was someone whose absence, five days of it, mattered.

And not in any way that was safe.

His silence unnerved me.

“Who are you?” he asked suddenly.

I folded my arms. “Who is who?”

A beat of silence hung heavy between us.

This man… had nerves.

I watched his eyes on me, sharp and unreadable, but then I noticed the faintest flicker, his gaze tracing the exhaustion etched into my face, the way my body sagged with sleeplessness. I hated how exposed that made me feel.

He’d been out for five days. Five days of me keeping him alive.

I could see something shifting in him, though he said nothing.

“I have to go,” he muttered suddenly, rising to his feet and heading for the door.

Panic shot through me. I leapt up, blocking his path with my body. “You can’t just leave,” I snapped, my voice firm.

He arched a brow at me. “Watch me.”

“You’re injured! You almost died, do you even know where you’re going?”

“Not your business.”

I threw up my hands, exasperated. “You don’t even know who I am.”

He stared at me, his eyes searching, hard, but something in his expression softened.

I sighed. “Isla.”

His gaze lingered on me as if rolling the name around in his mind.

“I saved your life,” I reminded him, lifting my chin. “A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t do any harm.”

He smirked faintly. “Sure of what?”

I rolled my eyes. This man was insufferable.

And yet… something in my gut whispered this wasn’t the end. That his sudden appearance in my life wasn’t an accident.

My instincts proved right.

Because at that moment, there was a loud bang on the door.

I froze.

Another bang.

Then.

“Open the door!” a voice shouted from the other side.

He stiffened instantly.

And before I could ask, before I could even breathe, gunfire split the air.