Fractured Truths

Julian’s POV

The gunshot’s echo ricochets through the hospital corridor, a piercing sound that drowns out Sophia’s scream and the blaring monitors in her room. My heart seizes, my blade already in hand as I spin toward Nadya, her gun smoking, her dark eyes gleaming with a vengeance I should’ve anticipated. Lucas stands frozen, his bandaged chest heaving, his gray eyes wild with shock but no blood Nadya’s shot missed him. My gaze snaps to Sophia, slumped on the hospital bed, her hands clutching her stomach, blood seeping through her gown. The sight rips through me, a primal fear for her and our unborn child, but the blood’s from her wrist a reopened wound from the zip ties, not a bullet. She’s alive, but terrified, her hazel eyes wide with confusion, locked on me as if I’m the enemy.

“Julian, get her out!” Asher shouts, limping into the corridor, his gun raised at Nadya. Security guards swarm, their shouts a chaotic blur, but Nadya’s already moving, slipping through a side door like a shadow. Lucas lunges toward Sophia’s room, his obsession undeterred, but I tackle him, slamming him against the wall, my blade at his throat. “You’ve lost her,” I growl, my voice raw with rage. “She’s not yours anymore.”

Lucas laughs, a broken, manic sound, blood flecking his lips. “You think you can take her? She doesn’t even know you, Gray.” His words sting, her amnesia a barrier Lucas has exploited, feeding her lies to paint me as the villain. The outline of my life my vendetta against his family for my parents’ accident, my takeover of Anderson Enterprises has led to this moment, but Sophia’s changed everything. She’s not just leverage; she’s my reason to breathe.

“Julian!” Asher’s voice cuts through, urgent. “Sophia’s crashing!” I release Lucas, shoving him to the floor, and rush to her bedside. Her monitors scream, her pulse erratic, the doctors barking orders as they stabilize her. “The stress, the drugs it’s too much,” one says, their hands moving fast, injecting something to calm her. Her eyes flutter, meeting mine, a flicker of something recognition?buried beneath the fear. “I don’t… know you,” she whispers, her voice breaking my heart.

“You will,” I say, gripping her hand, my thumb brushing her knuckles. “I’m not leaving you.” But Lucas’s lies, Emily’s betrayal, Nadya’s vengeance they’re all closing in, and now Emily’s loose, a wildcard in this deadly game. My grandfather Daniel’s absence gnaws at me,his betrayal in the tunnel, his plan to use Sophia against me, suggests he’s still pulling strings, even after the explosion.

Asher drags Lucas to his feet, cuffing him with a zip tie from a guard. “He’s done,” Asher says, his face grim. “But Emily’s out there, and Nadya’s armed.” I nod, my mind racing. The outline’s truth is unfolding Emily’s role in Sophia’s accident, Lucas’s complicity, their impending arrest. Asher’s confession in the tunnel, backed by texts on Emily’s phone, is enough to bring them down, but I need Sophia safe first, her memories restored.

A nurse pulls me aside. “She’s stable, but the amnesia’s severe. The drugs and trauma wiped out months. She needs rest, no stress.” I clench my fists, knowing Lucas’s presence, Nadya’s attack, and Emily’s escape are the opposite of rest. I step into the corridor, where Asher’s arguing with security, Lucas slumped against the wall, his eyes still burning with defiance. “You’ll never have her,” he mutters, his voice weak but venomous.

“Shut up,” I snap, my blade twitching in my hand. My vendetta against his family their role in my parents’ crash fueled my rise to CEO, but Sophia’s pregnancy, our connection, shifted my purpose. I need to tell her the truth, to help her heal, but her amnesia is a cage Lucas has locked her in. I turn to Asher. “Get those texts to the police. Nail Emily and Lucas for the accident.”

Asher nods, pulling out his phone, but a crash echoes from the stairwell, and my blood runs cold. I signal a guard to watch Lucas and sprint toward the sound, Asher at my heels. The stairwell’s dark, a broken light flickering, and I see a figure Emily, her face bloodied, a knife in her hand, her eyes wild with desperation. “You ruined everything, Julian!” she screams, lunging at me. I dodge, my blade clashing with hers, sparks flying as Asher tackles her, pinning her to the ground.

“She set up the accident,” Asher says, binding her wrists. “Her texts, her calls she planned it with Lucas to keep Sophia from you.” My rage flares Emily’s jealousy, her betrayal of her own sister, orchestrated the crash that stole Sophia’s memories. I want to end her, but Sophia needs me more.

Back in Sophia’s room, she’s calmer, the monitors steady, but her eyes are vacant, searching. “Lucas said… you’re dangerous,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “But I feel… something.” My heart aches, a spark of hope in her words. I kneel beside her, my voice soft. “I’m the one who loves you, Sophia. I’m the father of your child.”

Her eyes widen, a hand drifting to her stomach, but before she can respond, a doctor bursts in. “We found another substance in her system something experimental, linked to memory suppression. It’s fading, but she needs time.” Time we don’t have, with Nadya loose, Emily’s betrayal exposed, and Lucas still a threat.

I step into the corridor, where police are cuffing Lucas and Emily, Asher’s evidence sealing their fate. But my mind’s on Nadya her shot, her escape, her obsession with sabotaging us. My phone buzzes Rob, my fixer. “Nadya’s at your penthouse,” he says. “She’s got files on Sophia, dirt to ruin her. And… Daniel’s with her.” My blood runs cold my grandfather, alive, allied with Nadya, plotting against us.

I turn to Sophia, her eyes meeting mine, a flicker of trust breaking through. “I’m coming back,” I promise, but as I move to leave, a shadow shifts outside her window a glint of metal, a familiar silhouette.

The window shatters, glass spraying as Nadya leaps through, a gun in one hand, a file marked “Sophia Lark” in the other. “You thought you’d win, Julian?” she sneers, aiming at Sophia’s bed. I dive, shielding Sophia, but a second figure steps through Daniel, his face cold, a detonator in his hand. “This ends my way,” he says, pressing the button, and the room shakes, a hidden charge exploding as the ceiling buckles, trapping us in debris. Sophia’s hand grips mine, her memory flickering, but a scream cuts through Nadya’s or Emily’s, I can’t tell as a new shadow looms, a voice whispering, “The truth dies with her.” Who’s attacking, and will Sophia’s memory return before we’re buried alive?