All Chapters of Fighting For Her Heart: The Billionaire's Obsession: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

 Max**** The sterile scent of the hospital hit me, suffocating and sharp. The harsh fluorescent lights felt like a slap to my face. None of it mattered. What mattered was that Sara was still alive. It felt suffocating, the fluorescent lights too harsh, the buzz of activity too loud. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Sara was still alive. I squeezed her hand gently, my knuckles white from the grip. Her breathing was shallow, the bloodstains still staining the fabric of her dress, and every moment felt like it could be the last. I couldn’t bear it. Not now. Not after everything. But it wasn’t just her life on the line. As we pushed through the emergency doors, I could already hear the paparazzi outside, their cameras flashing like a storm. They were always there, always watching, but today—today they were relentless. 

MAX****“Sara’s fine.” That’s what I kept telling myself, over and over, like a prayer. But one look at her pale face on the hospital bed, and I knew I was lying.The sound of her head hitting the edge of the table still echoed in my skull. One moment of anger, of careless shoving, and suddenly there was blood—so much blood. I kept thinking, if Sam and I hadn’t been acting like idiots… If Sam and I weren't roughhousing in the kitchen, maybe she wouldn't have tripped over us and hit her head on the tabletop. The guilt pressed on my chest like a weight I couldn't throw off. I just needed her to wake up.But I am grateful that I hadn’t lost her. Not yet.Sara looked impossibly small in the bed. Tubes, wires, the pale cast of her skin—all of it made her look like someone else. Not the firestorm I remembered. Not the woman who could walk into a room and command it without saying a word. Even when she doubted herself, I never did. She had this way of filling space without even trying.I had

SARA The voices were sharp before I even opened my eyes. Not words at first—just jagged edges cutting through the cotton in my head.I’d been drifting in a warm, dark tide, the kind where you can almost pretend the pain isn’t there. Where time doesn’t exist. Where the world outside your skin can’t reach you. But the noise dragged me up, whether I wanted it or not.Flashes bled through my eyelids—ghost-light, quick and brutal—that made the ache behind my forehead pulse harder. The rhythm wasn’t right. Not steady like a heartbeat. Not random like weather. Purposeful. Hunting.I turned my head slowly, like my skull might crack if I moved too fast. The pillow shifted beneath me, scratchy with hospital starch. The faint smell of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and sour under the sterile chill.The window was a strobe light—bursts, shadows, silhouettes pressed too close to the glass.And then I saw them.Max and Sam—two storms colliding just outside my door. Max’s shoulders were tight

MaxI shouldn’t have followed her.I knew that even as I parked across the street, engine still running, hands gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make my knuckles ache.But knowing has never stopped me before.The café windows glowed warm against the darkening evening. Quiet. Neutral. The kind of place people went when they wanted conversations without witnesses.I told myself I was just making sure she was safe.A lie.I watched through the glass as she sat across from him—Sam. She was relaxed in a way she hadn’t been with me for days. Maybe weeks. Maybe ever.My jaw tightened.They talked. I couldn’t hear the words, but I didn’t need to. I knew the rhythm of her expressions too well. The way her shoulders softened when she felt understood. The way she tilted her head when she was listening—not guarding, not preparing to defend herself.That look had once been mine.Then he stood.I leaned forward without realizing it, pulse ticking faster, something sharp crawling up my spin

MaxThe first thing I heard when I woke up was silence. “Who brought me here?” he thinks to himself. But there is no one here to answer his question.Only Silence.Not the calm kind.The kind that presses against your ears until you realize something is missing.No crowd.No court.No roar of approval.Just the hum of a hospital hallway outside the room and the sharp ache behind my eyes.My phone was on the bedside table.Face down.I didn’t need to turn it over to know.But I did anyway.The screen lit up instantly—notifications stacked so thick they blurred together. Missed calls. Messages. Alerts. Names I recognized. Names I didn’t. Some I hadn’t spoken to in years.I opened the first headline without thinking.STAR PLAYER ASSAULTS ACTOR OUTSIDE CAFÉSAM MATTHEWS HOSPITALIZED AFTER PUBLIC ATTACKVIDEO GOES VIRAL: “MAXIMUS TURNER LOSES CONTROL”My stomach dropped.I scrolled.Photos.Too many of them.Sam on a stretcher. Blood on the pavement. Security is holding me back. My face—w