The evening light filtered through the hospital blinds, pale and weak after the relentless storm from the day before. The rain had stopped, but the biting cold had taken its place, creeping into every corner of the room. Anna shivered beneath the thin hospital blanket, her body still fragile from her ordeal. The clothes she wore were too light to provide much warmth, and though the blanket helped a little, the chill seemed to seep into her very bones.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, trying to push away the memories of the previous night. But they lingered—the fear, the running, and the fierce blue eyes of the man who had saved her. She felt an unfamiliar mix of dread and gratitude.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the door opening. A nurse stepped inside, pushing a wheelchair. Behind her, Alexander appeared, his imposing frame filling the room. Beside him stood another man, equally intimidating, with sharp features and an air of quiet menace.
Anna's pulse quickened as her gaze darted between the two men. Alexander's piercing blue eyes locked onto hers immediately, making her stomach churn with nervousness. He didn't speak as he stepped closer, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"You're awake," he said, his voice low and steady.
Anna nodded timidly, clutching the blanket around her shoulders.
The nurse approached her with a gentle smile. "We're getting you ready to leave, dear. Can you manage the wheelchair?"
Anna glanced at the wheelchair and then back at Alexander. Her voice felt trapped in her throat, but she managed a faint nod. She didn't have the strength to protest or question what was happening.
The nurse moved to help her into the wheelchair, but before she could reach out, Alexander took a step forward. "Leave it," he said sharply.
The nurse hesitated, glancing at him nervously before stepping back. Without a word, Alexander removed his tailored suit jacket. His movements were deliberate, the fabric sliding smoothly off his broad shoulders.
Anna stared in disbelief as he draped the jacket around her shoulders, the warmth of it immediately enveloping her. The scent of expensive cologne mixed with something distinctly him—a combination of power and danger.
"You're cold," he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion.
Anna clutched the jacket tightly, overwhelmed by the gesture. She opened her mouth to thank him, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotion.
Before she could process what was happening, Alexander bent down and slipped an arm beneath her knees, the other around her back. He lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing.
"Wait—" she began, her voice shaky.
"You're in no condition to walk," he said curtly, silencing her protest.
The other man, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward and picked up the wheelchair. He carried it with ease, following Alexander as he strode out of the room with Anna in his arms.
Anna's cheeks burned with embarrassment and confusion. She had never been held like this before, not since she was a child. It felt strange, intimate, and terrifying all at once. She kept her gaze down, too afraid to look at Alexander or the other man.
As they made their way through the hospital, staff and patients stared, their gazes filled with curiosity and unease. Anna could hear the whispers, the murmurs of recognition. Alexander Voss. His name seemed to carry weight wherever he went, and the tension in the air was palpable.
Once outside, the cold air hit her like a slap. She shivered despite the jacket, and Alexander tightened his hold on her. The man carrying the wheelchair walked ahead, opening the door to a sleek black car parked at the curb.
Alexander placed her gently into the back seat, his hands firm but careful. He adjusted the jacket around her shoulders before stepping back. The other man folded the wheelchair and placed it in the trunk.
Anna's gaze flickered to him briefly, curiosity warring with fear. Who was he? Another bodyguard? An associate? She wanted to ask, but the words stayed lodged in her throat. What if she spoke out of turn? What if they decided she was too much trouble and left her here?
Her heart sank at the thought. She had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Her uncle and aunt had made that painfully clear. She was nothing but a burden—a sentiment they had drilled into her since childhood.
The car door closed, and Alexander climbed in beside her. The other man took the front passenger seat, and the driver started the engine. The hum of the car was the only sound as they pulled away from the hospital.
Anna stared out the window, her hands clutching the edges of the jacket. The city blurred past, cold and unfeeling, much like her life up to this point.
"You haven't eaten," Alexander said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Anna turned to him, startled. His gaze was fixed on her, sharp and unrelenting.
"Am I wrong?" he pressed.
She shook her head. "No... I haven't."
He nodded, his expression giving nothing away. "We'll stop for food."
She blinked, unsure how to respond. Why was he doing this? Why did he care?
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Alexander didn't reply, but his gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned to look out the window.
The ride continued in silence, but Anna's mind raced with questions. Who was this man? A billionaire but Why had he helped her? And what did he expect in return?
The other man in the front seat glanced back briefly, his dark eyes assessing her. Anna quickly averted her gaze, her heart pounding. He was just as intimidating as Alexander, if not more so.
"Relax," Alexander said, his tone softer than before. "No one will hurt you."
Anna's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the jacket. She wanted to believe him, but the weight of her past made it impossible. Trust was a luxury she couldn't afford.
For now, all she could do was hope that this strange, powerful man was telling the truth.