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CHAPTER SEVEN — ADRIAN (POV)
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2025-11-16 23:15:36CHAPTER SEVEN — ADRIAN (POV)
The man who lost a lifetime without knowing. Rain clung to the hospital windows like stubborn fingerprints, smearing the night into long streaks of silver. Nurses moved quietly through the corridor outside his room. Machines beeped in irritating, predictable rhythm. Adrian heard none of it. He was awake. Wide awake. And Liana was gone. The chair beside his bed—her chair—sat empty. Mocking him. Cold. Wrong. He stared at it as if it had betrayed him first. His fingers twitched under the blanket. Every nerve screamed that something vital had been pulled out of him. The panic rose fast, sharp, irrational—except it didn’t feel irrational. It felt familiar, like a nightmare he couldn't recall but still feared. He swung his legs over the bed. Pain flared across his ribs. The IV tugged at his skin. None of it mattered. He needed to find her. He needed— He didn’t know what he needed. Only that she was the only steady pulse in the chaos he didn’t understand. A hand caught his arm. “Mr. Jin—stop.” It was the night resident, Dr. Hailey. Slim, sharp-eyed, exhausted. “Where is she?” Adrian demanded. “Your… companion? She said she’d be back.” “That’s not an answer.” His voice was low. Too calm. The kind of calm that made people nervous. The doctor hesitated. “Please lie down. Your vitals crashed last time you—” “Where. Is. She?” Dr. Hailey swallowed. “The nurse said she went to handle a… family matter.” Family. He didn’t like the word. Didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust anything that took her away from him. Of course, the doctor saw his expression and rushed to speak again. “She’ll return soon. But while you’re awake—there’s something you need to know.” He stopped moving, though the tension in his jaw didn’t ease. “Speak.” “You suffered a severe head injury. There are… inconsistencies in your memory. Some possible retrograde amnesia. Emotional dysregulation. Heightened attachment responses. Distorted triggers.” Adrian stared. She might as well have spoken in another language. “…Explain.” The doctor exhaled. “Your reactions when Ms. Liana leaves the room? The panic episodes? The fixation? These aren’t voluntary. They’re symptomatic. You’re missing context your brain thinks she should provide. She’s your anchor right now.” Anchor. The word settled uneasily in his chest. “Are you implying,” he said slowly, “that my mind can’t function without her?” The doctor winced. “Temporarily—yes.” He laughed once. A soft, humorless sound. Temporarily didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that sense of wrongness clawing through him whenever she wasn’t near. The doctor tried again. “What I’m saying is—don’t make any major decisions until your cognitive scans are complete. And if Ms. Liana is important to your emotional stability, you must avoid confrontational or stressful situations until we understand why.” “Are you suggesting I stay away from her?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “No—” Her eyes widened. “I’m saying the opposite. For now, proximity to her is stabilizing you.” Stabilizing. Like medication. Like oxygen. Like memory. A thin thread of something cold and possessive wound around his spine. So his instincts were right. So the fear wasn’t madness—it was recognition his mind couldn’t yet name. He didn’t know who she was to him. But losing her felt like dying. Again. He looked out the window, rain streaking down like ink. “Bring me my phone,” he said at last. “Mr. Jin—” “Now.” The doctor didn’t argue. She retrieved it. His hands trembled lightly as he powered it on—residual adrenaline or something darker. No messages from Liana. No missed calls. Not even a single notification from a number he could call hers. His stomach tightened. Why didn’t he have her saved? Why didn’t he know her number? Why didn’t he— The phone slipped slightly in his grasp. Then a thought struck him with cold clarity. His security detail. They always knew everything. Everyone. Everywhere. He dialed his head of security without hesitation. “Sir?” A groggy voice picked up instantly. “Find her.” “…Find who?” “Liana.” The name felt heavy in his mouth. Sharp and soft at once. A pause. Not long. But enough. “…Sir… your contact list—there is no one by that name.” He closed his eyes. The nausea rose sharp and sudden. His own security team didn’t know her. His phone didn’t know her. His memory didn’t know her. Only his instincts did. Which meant something had been erased. From his life. From his history. From him. “Retrace everything from the last month,” he ordered, voice like a blade. “Every location I visited. Every person I spoke to. Every unrecorded encounter.” “But—” “And start with the accident.” Silence. “Understood.” Adrian ended the call. The doctor watched him with a mixture of fear and pity. He didn’t care. He stared at the rain once more. Liana was out there dealing with a family problem. With no protection. No guarantee she was safe. No assurance she would return. The panic simmered under his ribs like molten glass. He pressed a hand over his heart. It wasn’t beating right. Not without her. He closed his eyes. And made a promise to the storm outside. “I’ll find you.”
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Bound by Desire: The Billionaire’s Forgotten Bride CHAPTER SEVEN — ADRIAN (POV)
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