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44

مؤلف: Mira Knox
last update تاريخ النشر: 2026-05-09 22:35:19

EMILY GRAYSON'S

It had been six days. Maybe seven.

I wasn’t sure anymore. Time didn’t exist properly in this place. There were no windows, no sunlight, no sunrise or sunset to separate one day from another. Just cold. Endless, suffocating cold. The room itself felt designed to break people slowly: concrete walls, damp air, and a single dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting a weak yellow glow that never changed. Day and night looked exactly the same here.

Too cold to sleep properly. To
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  • Safe In His Darkness    52

    EMILY GRAYSON'S Four days. Four entire days since Alexander Antonio had shown his face. And somehow, his absence felt heavier than his presence ever had. I sat curled into the corner of my couch, wrapped in one of Lexi’s oversized hoodies, staring blankly at the rain sliding down the apartment windows. The television played quietly in the background, but I hadn’t actually processed anything on the screen for almost an hour. My body still felt tired. Not physically anymore. Emotionally. Exhaustion lived deeper than bruises. A soft knock sounded at the apartment door before it opened carefully. Lexi stepped inside, carrying two grocery bags and enough chaotic energy to completely disrupt the suffocating silence hanging over the apartment. “Okay,” she announced dramatically, kicking the door shut behind her, “you officially look like a depressed Victorian widow.” I blinked slowly toward her. “That bad?” “Worse,” she replied immediately.“Honestly, if I walked in a

  • Safe In His Darkness    51

    ALEXANDER ANTONIO'S The city had never felt smaller, and Declon Ricci had never been harder to find. I stood in the center of an abandoned warehouse my men had raided less than an hour ago. Empty. Again. The air still reeked of gun oil and burnt cigarettes. Overturned crates littered the concrete floor. Half-packed weapons sat abandoned on a steel table beside maps that had been ripped apart in a hurry. Someone had left coffee behind—still warm. My jaw tightened. “He was here,” Raphael said quietly behind me. “We intercepted the chatter ourselves. The intel was solid.” I didn’t answer immediately. My eyes swept across the warehouse: fresh tire marks, recently disconnected surveillance wires, shell casings scattered near the loading dock. They had cleared out fast. “He’s bleeding us on purpose,” Sergio muttered darkly. “Every time we get close, he disappears right before we arrive. He wants you to be angry.”Slowly, I turned toward him. “I’m not angry.” And that was the problem.

  • Safe In His Darkness    50

    ALEXANDER ANTONIO'S “You don’t have to anymore.” Emily responded The words weren’t loud. They sounded final. Like a door quietly closing forever. “I can’t breathe around you,” she whispered. I physically flinched. Because I knew exactly what she meant before she even continued. “Every time I look at you…” Her voice cracked. “I see blood.” I stared at her silently. Unable to defend myself. Unable to deny it. “Your enemies.” “Your lies.” “Your world.”Her hand moved unconsciously to her stomach, and something inside me broke watching it.“It killed my parents,” she whispered. Her breathing trembled harder now. “It almost killed me. Then it took my baby.” My throat tightened painfully.“Don’t do this,” I whispered, because I could feel her slipping away from me. I could feel it happening in real time, and I had no idea how to stop it. “I already did.” Silence crashed between us. God, I had survived bullets, torture, war, bloodshed. But nothing had ever made me f

  • Safe In His Darkness    49

    EMILY GRAYSON'S Three days later, I asked for the discharge papers. The nurse standing by my bed hesitated, her expression tightening with concern. “Emily, you’re still very weak. You need more rest.” My voice came out soft. Calm. Too calm. “I’ll rest somewhere else.” She blinked at me, clearly unsure how to respond. A few minutes later, my doctor came in himself, clipboard tucked beneath one arm. His face carried that careful sympathy doctors always wore when they were about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “Emily,” he said gently, “you’ve suffered major physical and emotional trauma. It would be better if you stayed here a little longer.” “I’m leaving.” No anger. No tears. No argument. Just a decision. He studied my face for a long moment, probably searching for instability, hysteria, anything that would justify keeping me here.But there was nothing. Because whatever had once cracked apart inside me had already shattered completely. And when something is alread

  • Safe In His Darkness    48

    EMILY GRAYSON'S After forcing Alex to leave two days ago, everything became a blur. The doctor and nurse surrounded me, trying to calm me down while my heart monitor screamed beside the bed. I barely remember their voices and barely remember the sedative they pushed into my IV. I only remember crying. Then darkness. A soft voice slowly pulled me back to consciousness. “Emily?” My eyelids felt heavy as I forced them open. The hospital room was dim, sunlight leaking faintly through the curtains. My body ached everywhere, and my back burned sharply every time I breathed too deeply. But the moment my vision cleared, relief washed over me slightly. Lexi was sitting beside my bed, and Haze stood near the window holding two coffee cups. The second Lexi noticed I was awake, she immediately leaned forward.“How are you feeling?” she asked softly. I swallowed painfully before answering. “I’m fine.” It was a lie. A terrible one. But I didn’t have the energy for the truth. Haze imme

  • Safe In His Darkness    47

    ALEXANDER ANTONIO'S The SUV doors flew open before the vehicle fully stopped. “MOVE!” My voice ripped through the hospital entrance as I carried Emily through the sliding glass doors. Blood soaked my hands, my shirt, and skin. It dripped from my fingers onto the polished marble floor with every step I took. “Gunshot wound!” Raphael barked behind me. “Female, mid-twenties! Massive blood loss!” Everything around me blurred into noise and movement: doctors shouting, nurses running, the sharp scent of antiseptic burning my lungs, bright fluorescent lights overhead. But all I could see was her. Her head rested weakly against my chest. Her blood soaked through my arms. Too much blood. Way too fucking much. A stretcher rushed toward us. “Sir, we need to take her.” “No.” The word tore out of me instantly: raw, broken. No control left in it.A doctor stepped forward sharply. “She’s bleeding out!” That made me freeze. Because suddenly, this became real. This wasn’t over. I could

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