Shattered Promises

Julian’s POV

The tunnel’s collapse fades into a deafening silence, the ticking device’s final explosion a dull roar in my ears as I cradle Sophia’s unconscious body, her pulse faint beneath my fingers. The glowing green syringe Emily thrust toward her lies shattered, its contents hissing on the stone floor, but the needle mark on Sophia’s neck—Daniel’s earlier injection haunts me, a reminder of my failure to protect her. Blood stains the rocks—Emily’s, from Victor’s shot, or Daniel’s, I can’t tell. Lucas is slumped nearby, his chest wound bleeding out, his obsession with Sophia dying with him. Victor, my father’s old partner, vanished in the chaos, his cryptic words about the truth of my parents’ accident burning in my mind. But Sophia my Sophia, carrying our child is all that matters now, her breathing shallow, her face pale in the flickering light of the tunnel’s emergency bulbs.

Asher limps toward me, his arm bleeding, his gun still clutched tight. “We need to move, Julian,” he says, his voice rough, his eyes darting to Emily, bound and unconscious against a crate. The mercenaries’ shouts are gone, the helicopter’s thump faded, but the tunnel’s unstable, rocks shifting above us. My grandfather’s betrayal using Sophia to control me, to crush Lucas cuts deep, but Victor’s presence, his detonator, suggests a larger game, one tied to the accident that killed my parents. I push it aside, my focus on Sophia, her curls matted with blood, her hazel eyes closed, her strength fading.

“Help me carry her,” I say, lifting Sophia, my shoulder screaming from a rock’s impact. Asher nods, dragging Emily, her betrayal a wound we’ll deal with later. The tunnel’s exit is blocked, but a side passage glows faintly, leading upward. I move, my boots slipping on debris, Sophia’s weight heavy but precious. Her pregnancy our child is a secret Lucas knows, a weapon he’s wielded to keep her caged. My vendetta against his family, my hunt for their role in my parents’ death, drove me to take over Anderson Enterprises, but Sophia changed everything. She’s not just a means to an end she’s my reason to fight.

The passage opens to a forested clearing, the night air cold, the smoldering wreckage of the van a stark reminder of the chaos we’ve escaped. I lay Sophia on the grass, checking her pulse weak, but there. “Stay with me,” I whisper, brushing her cheek, my heart twisting at her stillness. Asher drops Emily nearby, his face grim. “She’s alive,” he says, nodding at his wife, “but she’s got a lot to answer for.”

Before I can respond, headlights cut through the darkness a black SUV speeding toward us. My blade’s out, ready, but Rob, my fixer, steps out, his face tense. “Hospital, now,” he says, opening the back door. “She’s bad, Julian.” I lift Sophia, my body shaking, and slide her into the SUV, climbing in beside her. Asher follows, dragging Emily, and Rob floors it, the forest blurring past.

At the hospital, the sterile lights burn my eyes as doctors swarm Sophia, whisking her to the ICU. “Head trauma, possible concussion,” one says, noting the needle mark, the bruises on her wrists. “We’re running tests on the substance in her system.” I nod, my throat tight, my hand gripping hers until they pull her away. Our baby,our futurehangs in the balance, and I’m powerless, a feeling I swore I’d never endure again after my parents’ accident.

Asher sits beside me in the waiting room, his arm bandaged, his eyes hollow. “Emily did this,” he says, his voice low. “She was working with someone Daniel, maybe others. I found texts on her phone, plans to take Sophia out.” My blood runs cold. Emily, Sophia’s sister, jealous since childhood, orchestrated the accident in the forest, the explosions a cover to trap Sophia. The outline’s truth hits hard Emily’s betrayal, Lucas’s complicity. “Show me,” I say, my voice a growl.

Asher hands me his phone, the texts damning: Emily coordinating with a contact—likely Daniel to stage the crash, to drug Sophia, to break her. My fists clench, my vendetta against Lucas’s family paling against this new betrayal. Lucas, wounded but alive, is somewhere in this hospital, manipulating Sophia even now, feeding her lies to keep her his. I think of Nadya, my ex, her own jealousy a threat I’ve ignored too long. And Daniel, my grandfather, who raised me to be ruthless but turned that ruthlessness on me.

A doctor approaches, her face grim. “Sophia’s stable, but she’s lost her memory retrograde amnesia from the trauma and drugs. She doesn’t remember the past few months.” My heart stops. The gala, our night together, our child she doesn’t know me, doesn’t know us. “She’s awake,” the doctor adds, “but she’s confused. Be gentle.”

I rush to her room, my heart pounding. Sophia’s awake, her hazel eyes vacant, staring at the ceiling. “Sophia,” I say, my voice soft, but she flinches, her gaze wary. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice weak, and it’s a knife to my chest. Lucas’s lies have already taken root he’s been here, playing the devoted husband, rewriting our story.

“It’s Julian,” I say, stepping closer, but she shakes her head, fear in her eyes. “I don’t know you. Lucas said you’re dangerous, that you’re trying to ruin us.” My rage flares Lucas, even now, caging her with lies. I want to tell her everything—our night, our child, my promise to free her but her confusion stops me. I need time, proof, to break through.

Asher bursts in, his face pale. “Julian, Emily’s gone. She slipped the restraints, vanished from the hospital.” My blood runs cold Emily, free, a threat to Sophia, to us. I turn to Sophia, her eyes searching mine, a flicker of recognition buried deep. I need to protect her, to expose Lucas and Emily, to reclaim her memories.

 A crash echoes from the hallway, shouts erupting as security rushes past. I step out, blade ready, and see Lucas, bandaged but standing, arguing with a nurse, his eyes wild with obsession. “She’s my wife!” he shouts, but a shadow moves behind him Nadya, her face cold, a gun in her hand, aimed at Lucas. “Not for long,” she says, her eyes flicking to me, a chilling promise in her gaze. Before I can move, a shot rings out, and Sophia screams from the bed, her monitors blaring as her hand clutches her stomach, blood seeping through her gown. Did Nadya’s shot hit Lucas, or has she targeted Sophia, our child, in a final act of vengeance? What’s happening, and can I save her before it’s too late?