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When he arrived, the guards were already waiting outside.
He threw the car door open and ran inside, the sound of his shoes echoing across the marble floors.
"Where is she?"
"In the guest room, sir," one of his men answered softly.
He entered blood still in his hands.
Viktor stood by the bed. Elena lay there — pale, still, her breathing steady but slow.
Damian's chest tightened.
He walked closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She didn't move.
"She hasn't woken up since I brought her," Viktor said quietly.
"I called your private doctor."
Right on cue, the doctor arrived, carrying a black case.
He nodded at Damian and began checking her pulse, her eyes, her breathing.
Minutes passed — tense and silent.
Finally, the doctor looked up.
