The night sky was torn apart by a sudden explosion, its fiery glow illuminating the darkness. The shockwave rippled through the ground, shaking it ever so slightly. Livia's heart clenched, her mind racing through countless possibilities, but the one that terrified her most—was Marcellus or Adrian caught in that explosion?
Screams and frantic cries echoed through the streets as people fled in panic. The once-quiet night was shattered beyond repair. Livia instinctively moved toward the explosion, but Elias grabbed her wrist, his brows tightly furrowed.
"Don't be reckless. At least confirm the situation first."
Livia took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She quickly pulled out her phone and contacted Adrian.
"Are you both okay?" Her voice carried a trace of urgency.
A few seconds later, Adrian's voice came through. "Elise and I are fine. The explosion happened far from us."
Livia let out a breath of relief, but her heart remained lodged in her throat. "What about Marcellus? Where is he?"
There was a brief silence before Adrian answered in a low voice, "…No news yet."
Livia's heart sank like a stone, crushing her chest with an unbearable weight.
She refused to think of the worst possibility, but a gnawing sense of unease crept into her mind. If Marcellus had truly been at the center of that explosion, then—
"No." She gritted her teeth, cutting off the thought before it could form. She turned sharply to Elias. "We need to get to the scene. Now."
Elias hesitated, but seeing the determination in her eyes, he nodded and followed her toward the blast site.
When Livia arrived, the scene before her was utter devastation. Debris from shattered buildings lay scattered everywhere, and flickering flames painted the sky a haunting red. Soldiers were already working to rescue the wounded, but her eyes frantically searched for one person—
"Marcellus…" Her voice barely escaped her lips.
Her fingertips were ice-cold, her heart pounding furiously against her ribs. A suffocating fear gripped her, making it hard to breathe.
Just then, a soldier rushed past, and Livia immediately stopped him. "Where is Marcellus?"
The soldier hesitated for a moment before answering grimly, "We just found him. He's badly injured and has been taken to the hospital."
Livia's mind went blank. It felt as though an invisible hand had squeezed her heart so tightly she could hardly stand. Without a second thought, she turned and ran toward the hospital.
She didn't know how she got there. Her thoughts were a chaotic mess until she found herself standing at the hospital room's door. Only then did she realize her fingers were trembling.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushed the door open.
Inside, the harsh white lights cast a sterile glow, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic. Marcellus lay quietly on the hospital bed, his face pale. A bandage wrapped around his forehead, and his arm was immobilized—evidence that he had been pulled back from the brink of death.
Livia stood frozen at the doorway, staring at him. Her heart clenched, an unbearable ache spreading through her chest.
He looked so peaceful, stripped of his usual cold indifference and unreadable schemes. He was just… lying there, breathing—weakly, but steadily.
Pain twisted inside her. Finally, she stepped forward, slowly sitting down beside him.
She reached out, wanting to touch him, but her hand stopped midair.
She didn't know what to do. She didn't even know what she was feeling.
Was it anger? Heartache? Or regret?
If she had never fallen in love with him, would she be spared this pain?
But if he had never existed in her life… what kind of person would she have become?
Livia closed her eyes, inhaling deeply in an attempt to steady herself. Yet, no matter how much she tried to suppress her emotions, her eyes burned with unshed tears.
She had always thought she could clearly separate love from hatred. But reality proved her wrong.
She hated Marcellus for his betrayal, his coldness, his relentless calculations. But she couldn't deny it—when she heard he was gravely injured, the sheer terror and agony nearly consumed her.
Finally, her fingers brushed against his, and she gently took his hand in hers.
"You bastard…" she murmured, her voice laced with exhaustion and an almost imperceptible tremor.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there before she felt the faintest squeeze on her fingers.
Her head shot up, and she found herself staring into a pair of deep, dark eyes.
Marcellus had awakened. Though his face remained pale, a faint, teasing glint danced in his gaze.
"Are you crying?" he asked hoarsely.
Livia stiffened, immediately pulling her hand away. "Who's crying?" she snapped.
A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, rough yet carrying an unusual gentleness. "You are."
She scowled, unwilling to argue with him. Just as she was about to say something, she noticed his gaze lingering on her, studying her with an unreadable expression.
There was no usual guardedness in his eyes—only a quiet warmth that unsettled her heartbeat.
"I'm fine," he said softly, as if trying to reassure her. "It's just a few injuries. I'll recover soon."
Livia looked at him, her lips slightly parted. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
Marcellus was momentarily stunned. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at his lips. His voice was low and warm.
"…So, you do care about me."
Livia's breath hitched. She wanted to refute him, but the words wouldn't come.
Of course she cared. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been so terrified. She wouldn't have felt her heart shatter upon seeing him unconscious.
But she didn't know how to face these emotions.
Marcellus watched her struggle, then let out a soft sigh. Lifting a weak hand, his fingers brushed against the tips of her hair—light and reassuring.
"You're exhausted," he murmured. "Rest for a while."
Livia looked at him, her heart a tangled mess of emotions.
Could she really… keep running from this?