On that stormy night of their attempted escape, they had been mere minutes from boarding an international night to freedom
But fate had other plans.
The Sterling family’s maid had brought Aria her customary bedtime chamomile tea, growing concerned when repeated knocks went unanswered. The hyper–vigilant head of security immediately bypassed the lock, discovering the open window with curtains billowing in the downpour–and no trace of Arial]
The family’s security team sprang into action with military precision, tapping into citywide surveillance networks and deploying personnel at every transportation hub, determined to intercept the fleeing couple.[]
When they spotted Aria and Marcus approaching the terminal, neither had time to react before being violently tackled to the ground]
The “random pedestrians” rushing past had actually been plainclothes security operatives strategically positioned throughout the area.
Their escape had been doomed from the start.]
Through sheets of rain and swirling mist, their eyes locked in shared anguish.]
J
Icy raindrops mingled with their tears in silent solidarity.[]
Without warning, the deafening blare of a truck horn shattered the night.[]
A massive delivery truck hydroplaned out of control, its brakes failing as it barreled directly toward them.]
Marcus somehow summoned superhuman strength, breaking free from his captors and shoving Aria clear of the vehicle’s path.]
The massive tire crushed his leg, bone fragments splintering with sickening clarity.[]
Blood pooled beneath him, shockingly dark against the rain–slicked pavement. Before consciousness slipped away, his final sight was Aria’s tear–streaked face as she too collapsed into darkness.[]
Marcus had fully expected to die that night.
In an unexpected twist, one of the security guards he’d inadvertently saved during the chaos felt indebted enough to secretly transport him to a private medical facility, slipping the attending physician a substantial cash “donation” before disappearing.
Marcus had suffered catastrophic injuries: ruptured spleen, intracranial hemorrhage, severe concussion, and comminuted fractures in both legs that shattered bone into countless fragments.
After twenty–four hours of emergency procedures and nearly a month in intensive care, he finally regained consciousness.[]
His vital organs slowly stabilized, but rehabilitating his devastated legs presented a seemingly insurmountable challenge.[]
Marcus spiraled into depression until catching a news segment about the Sterling–Morgan merger, featuring footage of a ghostly–pale Aria being paraded at the engagement gala. The deadness in her eyes pierced straight through him.[]
That moment reignited his determination–he would reclaim her, whatever the cost.
Marcus attacked his rehabilitation with near–maniacal intensity, pushing his body beyond all reasonable limits.
The process was excruciating and interminable.[]
Like having his consciousness shattered then painstakingly reassembled piece by fragmented piece.[]
Initially, Marcus couldn’t even stand. The instant his foot touched the floor, white hot agony exploded through his nervous system. Unable to control his atrophied legs, he’d collapse in an undignified heap.]
Nurses and physical therapists frequently attempted to intervene when witnessing his suffering, only to be firmly rebuffed.[]
“Back off! I’ve got to… stand on my own…”
vn…“]
Marcus would growl through gritted teeth, his face ashen and drenched with cold sweat.[]
Despite unbearable pain, quitting never crossed his mind. He’d grip the parallel bars with trembling hands, fighting for every inch of progress.
My Ex Planned His Wedding On My Death Dav?!
206.59
Chapter 12
After managing just two steps, his legs would inevitably buckle, sending him crashing to the mat]
The sensation in his knees resembled red hot pokers being driven deep then twisted sadistically. Despite his remarkable pain threshold, the sheer physical trauma often triggered involuntary tears.[]
“Mr. Cole, rehabilitation isn’t a sprint! This approach might accelerate recovery, but you’re literally destroying your body in the process!“[]
The exasperated orthopedic specialist would frequently intervene, genuinely concerned for his patient’s wellbeing.[]
“I don’t… mind…“[
Marcus would mutter through blood–flecked lips, forcing himself upright yet again.[]
The distance from therapy room to corridor’s end spanned barely forty feet, yet it represented a journey of biblical proportions.[]
Countless falls followed by agonizing recoveries. Despite bruises blooming across his body and arms mottled purple with contusions, he adamantly refused
assistance.
Medical staff and fellow patients often gathered to witness his battle, many openly weeping at his determination. His example inspired numerous patients with similar injuries to request more aggressive rehabilitation protocols.]
(0)
(0)
Chapter 13
