Chapter 5

I slowly regained consciousness on the stretcher, my head still dull with pain, and heard Paul giving instructions to the doctor outside the ambulance.

“My wife is three months pregnant. Please be careful with the medication. Don’t harm the baby.”

The nurse looked toward my abdomen, about to say something.

I struggled to grab her hand and spoke weakly, “I accidentally miscarried. I don’t want him to know yet. Please keep it a secret.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to understanding. “But we need to do a basic debridement now. Without anesthesia, it will hurt a lot. Are you sure?”

She looked at me with concern as she confirmed again. I clenched my teeth and nodded.

“Are you ready? I’m going to cut away the burned tissue.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the intense pain jolted me fully awake. I couldn’t help but scream.

Paul rushed over at the sound and tightly grabbed my hand.

“With an injury this serious, why didn’t you call for me?”

A trace of bitterness had just surfaced in my chest when the piercing pain cut through it.

Tears and sweat rolled down one after another, and even my breathing became rapid from the pain. I could only force out a sentence between breaths.

“You… left too quickly.”

Paul’s grip loosened for a moment, then tightened again.

“It’s my fault. Hold my hand and let it all out on me.”

I gripped his hand tightly, my nails digging into his flesh bit by bit.

He pressed his lips together and said nothing more, only looking at me with deep eyes filled with guilt.

He could feel my pain, but he didn’t know that its source wasn’t only my body, but also my heart.

In the end, my consciousness grew heavier and heavier, and I fainted.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital room.

A full day and night had passed. My wound had been treated and wrapped in bandages.

The door to the room was open, and I saw Elizabeth and Paul outside.

“Paul, go get some rest. You haven’t slept for 24 hours. I’ll wait here for Emily to wake up.”

“No. If she wakes up and doesn’t see me, she’ll feel uneasy. I’ll go rest after she’s at ease.”

Elizabeth suddenly raised her voice. “Go rest now! Lack of sleep will slow your reaction. What if there’s another assassination attempt? Honestly, can’t you make fewer enemies? Back then, I left you because I couldn’t stand the fact that you could die at any moment!”

Hearing this, the tension in Paul’s brows instantly eased.

He pulled Elizabeth into his arms, staring straight into her eyes as if trying to see through her.

“So you still care about me like before! You’ve always had me in your heart! Come back to me! I’m willing to clean up all the family’s businesses for you.”

Elizabeth seemed dazed for a moment before she realized she had said too much. She forcefully broke free from Paul.

Paul didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled, pure and almost intoxicated.

“I have plenty of time. I’ll wait for you to change your mind. For now, I’ll listen to you and go rest.”

Then he slung his suit jacket over his shoulder and left with ease.

In the three years I had been married to Paul, he had always been the all-controlling mafia don—rational, cold, and mature.

Even when I was upset, he would patiently comfort me, but his gentleness toward me always carried a layer of detachment.

I never dared to act freely in front of him, not even to raise my voice.

I had seen how he shot those who defied him and how he threw traitors into cages with lions. However, he would lose control and get drunk because of Elizabeth’s cold words.

Only she could shout at him, give him orders, and he wouldn’t get angry.

Instead, he seemed to enjoy it, like a young man in his first love, overjoyed by a single word of concern from the person he loved.

When I gave him the sweater I had spent half a year knitting for his birthday, all I received in return was a polite smile and a simple “thank you”.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget how he looked just now, this version of him I had never seen before.

When I opened them again, I met Elizabeth’s gaze.

“Emily, you’re awake?”

There was a trace of unease in her eyes, as if she wasn’t sure whether I had just woken up.

I looked back toward the door, easing her out of it. “Where’s Paul?”

She came back to herself, her expression turning natural again.

“He was worried about you, so he stayed up all night. He’s gone to rest now. Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?”

I tried to move, but the injured arm wouldn’t lift at all.

“Will my injury affect my dancing?”

She shook her head immediately. “Not at all. Your ligaments and bones weren’t injured. Don’t worry.”

But what if they had been? My career would have ended right there.

Would Paul have felt guilty?

Suddenly, I smiled.

I was only a substitute. When the bullet came, he didn’t even care about my life. How could he care about this?

“What are you smiling about? Feeling better?” Elizabeth poured me a glass of water.

I took it with my other hand and said lightly, “I’m fine. You should get some rest, too.”

She didn’t leave. After giving me a few suggestions about my recovery training, she naturally asked, “Emily, has anything been upsetting you lately?”

My gaze darkened slightly. She was testing whether I knew something.

I looked at her calmly. “No. I’ve been in a good mood.”

I lied to her to ease her concerns and also to remind myself not to feel hurt over these irrelevant people and things anymore.

After all, I would be leaving soon.