CHAPTER 04: Savior in the Shadows

PAST

The evening air was frigid, the kind that bites into your skin and seeps into your bones. She sat alone on a park bench, her gaze lost in the distant laughter of children playing nearby. A soft baby pink strapless knee-length dress graced her frame, layered modestly with a light blue denim jacket. Her hair, braided neatly into a French plait, framed her delicate face. Draped across her arm was a cream-colored fur coat, forgotten in her grief.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, relentless as a waterfall. Oblivious to the dropping temperature, she remained still— silent, hollow, and unreachable. She was waiting. For Mr. Parker to take her home.

She needed a sense of peace. For a moment where her pain would pause. She waited in the garden beside Parker Enterprises, unaware that a pair of eyes had been watching her from across the street for over thirty minutes.

From the luxurious comfort of his Rolls-Royce Ghost, he finally stepped out, unable to ignore the ache in his chest at the sight of her broken silhouette. It reminded him of someone close to his heart. His Mother.

He walked towards her, his steps steady yet cautious, and stood beside her without a word. But she didn’t notice. Her mind was elsewhere— far from reality.

He slowly sat down beside her and introduced himself, his voice gentle, but she didn’t respond. Her eyes— dull, swollen, and heavy with sorrow— didn’t even flinch. With hesitant hands, he placed one palm on her trembling thigh, the other reaching up to delicately wipe her tears. But still— nothing.

No movement.

No reaction.

Just silence.

So he shook her lightly.

And just like that, her trance shattered.

She blinked up at him, stunned. Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, and time seemed to freeze. He found her reactions oddly endearing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, but to her— it was terrifying.

His presence felt too familiar.

Too haunting.

A ghost of someone she never wanted to remember.

When he noticed her shivering, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, misjudging the reason behind her trembling. It wasn’t the cold— it was him. His scent filled her lungs. His warmth surrounded her. His voice lingered in her ears. Her mind froze, and flashbacks started to haunt her.

And her mind couldn’t take it.

Her vision blurred. Dizziness wrapped around her like a noose. Her body collapsed into his arms— cold, lifeless, and still. Panic shot through him. He caught her just in time and lifted her effortlessly into his arms. With her unconscious in his lap, he yelled for the driver to head to Bells Hospital.

During the drive, he stared at her— her peaceful, pale face breaking his composure. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, a question circling his mind like a storm:

What had life done to her to make her this broken?

They reached the hospital swiftly. Without waiting for assistance, he stormed inside, carrying her in his arms like something sacred. Gasps followed his entrance. Everyone recognised him— the owner, the name that echoed with authority. Fear and surprise danced across their faces as he demanded — Dr Marshall.

A nurse rushed to call Dr. David Marshall, the head of the hospital. Meanwhile, another physician led him to a room where she could be examined.

He gently laid her on the bed, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. Dr. Marshall’s assistant walked in and instantly recognised her. A flicker of concern crossed his face. Then, silence.

“She’s one of ours,” the doctor said, grimly. “A regular. Dr. Claire’s patient.”

The revelation hit him hard.

He stared at her for while, still processing and then asked the doctor for her details, though hesitant, the doctor complied. As he read through them, something in his heart shifted— excitement, recognition, disbelief. Without wasting time, he called Dr. Claire Marshall. But before the call could go through, Mr. and Mrs. Marshall stormed into the room, their eyes sharp and furious.

He bit back his questions. Played it cool. Let them speak.

After examining Davina, Claire looked at him with barely concealed disdain and snapped,

“Did you do something? You scared her half to death. She’s hypersensitive, still learning to exist around strangers. Your presence? It terrified her. She isn’t like the girls you flirt with, Michael. She’s fragile. Broken in ways you can’t fix with a pretty smile or sweet words. She’s battling demons inside her— ones you don’t even understand. So do her a favor. Stay. Away.”

Her voice rose, thick with frustration and concern. Before she could continue, Michael lifted his palms, surrendering silently. He wanted to lash out but just one look at the unconscious girl and he walked out.

Outside, rage simmered within him. He punched the wall hard enough to split skin, he saw they had followed him outside. He barged into the doctors’ office — waited until they walked in and growled,

“I didn’t hurt her. And no, she’s not like any other girl. She’s… she’s something else.”

They stared at him in silence. He took a breath.

“I… felt an instant connection… a curiosity to know her, be around her, protect her from whoever who did that to her, hurt her and now after reading about her health. I need to be with her and I am serious about it. I really like her… Aunt, she may not remember me but I know her.” he said quietly.

“Please introduce me to her. I swear I won’t hurt her.”

The sincerity in his voice was palpable. It was the first time he had ever pleaded, and they knew it. They nodded slowly.

He requested that she be moved to a VIP room. Once done, he sat by her side, brushing her hair back gently. She remained unconscious. They updated Mr. Parker on her condition and promised to take care of her.

He stayed by her side through the night. Watching her. Admiring her. Her skin— pale but glowing. Her features— delicate yet strong. She looked like a fallen angel, and he couldn’t help but wonder what tragedy had stolen her light. Eventually, fatigue claimed him, and he fell asleep resting his head on her stomach.

At dawn, she stirred.

The harsh light hurt her eyes. She covered them instinctively, rubbed them, and then glanced around, confused. The sterile white room wasn’t familiar. Panic started to bloom— until she felt something on her stomach.

She looked down. Memories flooded in. And then, she screamed.

Michael jerked awake, startled. His brows furrowed in irritation, but the moment he saw her terrified expression, his anger melted away. He tried to speak, but she shut her eyes tightly, hands clamped over her ears. His voice— the deep husky tone that made hearts melt— only frightened her more.

She began to shake violently, hugging herself, whimpering. In desperation, he tried to calm her, but she started hurling nearby objects at him, shrieking. He apologized and quickly left the room, calling Mr. and Mrs. Marshall for help.

Minutes later, the Marshalls and Mr. Parker rushed in.

The moment she saw Michael again, she screamed louder, hyperventilating, running into Mr. Parker’s arms, clinging to him like a lifeline. He held her protectively, nodding at Michael to leave. The girl’s body trembled as sobs ripped through her.

Then came the words that broke every heart in the room.

“He looks like…..has he come for me…. I don’t wanna go… Grandpa….ask him to leave… I can’t go back…”

They tried to console her and explained to her that it wasn’t HIS men.

“Please… *sobs* Please help me… *sobs* I wasn’t like this… *sobs* Please… help…”

She collapsed to the floor, crying into her hands. Claire knelt beside her, gently wrapping her arms around her. Davina leaned into her, sobbing into her shoulder while Claire stroked her back soothingly. When she finally quieted down, David scooped her up and placed her gently on the bed.

Outside, Michael’s heart shattered. She hated his presence. Feared him. And it killed him.

He waited, silently, outside her room.

Later, when she regained some composure, she turned toward the Marshalls, questions burning in her gaze. Before she could speak, Claire gently interrupted her thoughts.

“Everything is fine, Davi. You have nothing to worry. All you need to do is rest and take care of your body and health. We are there for you, and He’s Michael Davi,” she said softly.

“He’s like a son to us… and Mr. Parker’s best friend’s grandson. We’ve known him for years. We raised him practically. He’s not a bad man, Davi. Just talk to him once. If he hadn’t brought you here on time, your condition might’ve worsened.”

Davina looked at her, eyes full of hesitation. But Claire’s soft, reassuring smile melted some of the fear away. Her heart slowed, her breathing calmed. And for the first time in what felt like forever, a tiny, shy grateful smile danced on her lips.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

.

.

.

.

.

Do read and support me. Also, let me know your opinions through your comments. Your comments and opinions would really motivate me to write and I would love to read and reply to all your comments. 

I really hope you all will like this book and will support me by following and commenting your opinions. 

... ... Thank you ... ...