𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 69: 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐦 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝.

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°°

Antonio didn’t know how long he’d slept before a sound dragged him out of it — the faint clatter of teeth, soft whimpers, and restless shifting beside him.

His eyes snapped open.

“Nevena…” he breathed, pushing up on one elbow but she wasn’t awake.

For a minute, he watched her conflicted position intensely.

She was curled on her side, legs drawn in tight, her knees pressed together, lips trembling— maybe caught somewhere between fevered dreams and pain.

He kicked the sheets off and rushed to her.

“Hey,” he murmured, sinking beside her. His hand swept her hair back from her damp forehead.

The heat beneath his palm was scorching.

“Fuck,” he hissed, realizing that fever had caught her full-force.

Her lashes fluttered, but she wasn’t really conscious — her body shivering uncontrollably.

He glanced at the window — the city outside was already swallowed by night,

No time to waste.

He got up at once, strides long and controlled only by urgency.

In the bathroom, he snatched his phone off the sink, cursing himself for not anticipating this.

He dialed his personal doctor— racing back to the room like a wounded animal.

“Pick up… pick up…” he muttered.

The call finally connected. “Yes, Mr. Hunt?” the doctor’s voice came, heavy with sleep.

“Come to the address I sent you,” Antonio ordered tightly.

“What's the condition?” The doctor inquired “A gunshot?”

“No,” Antonio snapped. “The patient is burning up, and I don’t like how she’s breathing. Just get here.”

“Understood. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Keep her hydrated. Cold compress. Don’t let the fever spike.”

—

Antonio didn’t even wait for the rest.

He hung up and crouched beside her again.

“Nina?” He called softly, cupping her cheek.

Her lashes fluttered weakly, but she didn't answer, rather she leaned into his touch — breath shallow and uneven.

“Let's have some water" he murmured, sliding an arm under her shoulders to lift her. “Doctor’s coming.”

Her head lolled onto his chest, sweat dampening her hairline.

He helped her sip water, holding the glass for her. “Just a little more,” he coaxed gently.

Her lips trembled around the rim, a soft whimper escaping at the effort.

“Easy.” Antonio steadied her head, helping her sip a little more.“Good girl.”

“You should have told me earlier that you weren’t feeling well,” he muttered, setting the glass down on the nightstand.

She blinked sluggishly, muttering something he couldn’t catch.

“What? What is it?” he asked, leaning in.

Her fingers weakly gripped his wrist. “…It's hot…” she whispered faintly.

“I know.” His voice cracked a fraction —at how fragile her voice sounded. He smoothed her hair, her back, her shoulder, in slow, grounding strokes. “It’s the fever. Stay strong.”

Every minute felt like ten, and when her teeth clattered again— he cursed and lifted her into his arms.

…

He carried her to the bathroom, sitting her gently on the closed toilet lid, unwrapping her.

Cold water ran instantly and he rid off his towel and dunked in it, squeezing the excess with shaking hands.

He brushed the cloth along her temple with careful precision and her body shuddered at the temperature shift.

Her fingers reached out blindly and Antonio caught them immediately, threading their fingers together.

“I’m here,” he breathed, voice softer than he ever used with anyone. “I’m right here.”

He steadied her and repeated the cooling process everywhere the fever raged — until her temperature dropped slightly.

Seeing the improvement he scooped his phone with wet fingers and called the doctor again.

“I’m almost there.”

“B*stard!” Antonio snapped before he could filter himself. “She’s getting cooked. Get your fucking ass here — now.”

Her teeth clattered again and he dropped the phone — pulling her gently against his body to steady the tremors.

After a few more minutes, he wrapped her up with her robe and also himself, carrying her back to the bed.

He laid her back down, covering her lightly but keeping her chest exposed to reduce the heat.

Finally, a firm knock sounded.

He didn’t bother checking — he yanked the door open. The doctor stepped in, equipment bag in hand.

Antonio’s jaw ticked sharply with barely contained urgency. “She was fine earlier,” He muttered, leading the way. “Then suddenly she started shivering—her whole body’s burning.”

The doctor nodded and began examining her.

He checked her temperature, pulse, and the strain in her breathing. Next he lifted her eyelid gently.

“She’s exhausted and also running a high fever,” the doctor finally said. “I’ll give her an injection and set up an IV to bring it down. Moreover she needs rest, and warmth around her extremities, but we must cool her core.”

Antonio stood rigid, arms folded so tightly that veins pushed against his skin.

“Her immune system looks crashed. Is it manageable here or should I move her to the hospital?”

“It’s manageable,” the doctor assured with a chuckle. “The fever is likely a reaction to the cold rain.”

He pulled out an IV bag from his kit.

“I’ll just set up fluids. Monitor her breathing”

Antonio only nodded once— sharp and full of unspoken doubt.

The doctor prepared the IV and set it up.

Seeing the syringe, He moved instantly and adjusted her robe, supporting her head while the doctor injected her arm.

Within ten minutes, her breathing steadied.

The doctor packed his bag and turned to Antonio.

“She’ll be fine by morning,” he assured. “But she shouldn’t be alone.”

“Of course,” he replied quietly.

After seeing him out, Antonio returned, dragging a chair beside the bed— but he didn’t sit.

He watched her chest rise slowly, relaxed lashes twitching.

Eventually, he lowered himself into the chair, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving her.

Her hand slipped slightly off the blanket— and immediately, he took it in his own, thumb brushing her knuckles.

Hours passed and Junior stirred. “Bestie!” he murmured, curling into Nevena.

Antonio intercepted him gently. “Shh! Bestie's sick— don't disturb her.”

Junior blinked up at him, small fists rubbing his eyes. “Sick…?” His voice still thick with sleep.

Antonio nodded, pointing at the IV drip. “The doctor already gave her an injection.”

Junior looked at the pale Nevena for a while and then back at Antonio.

“Can I have something to eat— I'm hungry?”