A Night With The Ruthless Billionaire

The rain hasn't let up. It pelts against the windshield in heavy sheets, blurring the road ahead and making the world outside look distant and dreamlike. Inside the SUV, the silence between Alex and me feels like a living thing—heavy, tense, full of words left unsaid. My mind is a whirlwind, thoughts colliding with each other, none of them making sense.

My mother. I need to see my mother.

Beside me, Alex's jaw is tight, his eyes fixed on the road. The muscles in his arms are taut, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He hasn't said a word since he made the call—whoever it was, it left him shaken. I can see it in the way his shoulders are hunched, in the quick, shallow breaths he's taking.

I break the silence. "Why did you bring me back to the hospital, Alex? It's not safe. They could be here."

He doesn't look at me. His eyes stay locked on the road. "You need to see your mother. I need to make sure you're safe."

Safe. The word feels hollow, a cruel joke. "After everything that's happened tonight, you think this is safe?"

His hands tighten on the wheel. "Trust me."

Trust. It's such a simple word, but it feels impossible right now. How can I trust him when everything I thought I knew has been turned upside down? But I don't argue. Not now. My mother's face flashes in my mind, pale and still in that hospital bed. I need to see her, to make sure she's okay. To remind myself why I'm fighting so hard to survive this.

The hospital looms ahead, a stark white structure against the dark sky. The parking lot is almost empty, the rain turning the asphalt into a slick mirror. Alex pulls into a spot near the entrance and kills the engine. For a moment, we sit in silence, the only sound the rain drumming against the roof.

He turns to me, finally, his eyes searching mine. "Stay close to me. Don't talk to anyone you don't recognize."

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "What aren't you telling me, Alex?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he opens the door, stepping out into the rain. I follow, my feet splashing through puddles, the cold water soaking into my shoes. He's at my side in an instant, his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the entrance.

The lobby is dimly lit, almost deserted. The receptionist glances up, but Alex gives her a look that silences whatever questions she might have had. We move through the halls quickly, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. My heart races with every step.

When we reach my mother's room, I hesitate. My hand trembles as I reach for the door handle. What if something's happened while I was gone? What if…?

Alex's hand closes over mine. "She's okay, Emma. Go."

I push the door open, my breath catching in my throat. The room is quiet, the machines beeping softly. My mother lies in the bed, her face peaceful, her breathing steady. Relief floods through me, so intense it leaves me dizzy. I move to her side, taking her hand in mine. Her skin is warm, her fingers weak but responsive.

"Mom," I whisper, tears stinging my eyes. "I'm here."

Her eyes flutter open, soft green meeting mine. She tries to smile, but it's a shadow of what it used to be. "Emma," she breathes, her voice thin, fragile. "You're safe."

I nod, my throat too tight to speak. I want to tell her everything, to spill all the fear and confusion that's been choking me. But I can't. Not now. Instead, I just hold her hand, grounding myself in her presence.

Behind me, Alex stands near the door, his eyes scanning the hallway. His body is tense, every muscle coiled. He's on edge, watching for something—or someone. The air is thick with unspoken tension.

My mother's grip on my hand tightens. "Emma… he's dangerous."

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. "What?"

She doesn't look at Alex, but I know who she's talking about. Her eyes flicker with fear, something deeper than the usual worry. "They're all dangerous. You need to be careful."

Before I can respond, the door opens. A nurse steps in, her expression calm but distant. "We need to check her vitals," she says, her voice soft but firm.

Alex nods, stepping back to let her work. I move away from the bed, my mind spinning. I watch the nurse, something about her… off. She's too quiet, her movements too precise. My stomach twists with unease.

Alex's phone buzzes. He steps into the hallway to take the call, his voice low and urgent. I can't hear what he's saying, but his posture is rigid, his free hand clenched at his side.

The nurse finishes quickly, too quickly. She adjusts the machines, then turns to me. "She's stable. But you should rest too."

I nod, but my eyes stay on her as she leaves the room. The door closes with a soft click, and the air feels heavier. I turn back to my mother, but she's asleep again, her breathing shallow but steady.

A shadow moves in the hallway. My heart leaps into my throat. I step toward the door, my pulse pounding. Alex is still on the phone, his face pale, his eyes wide with something I don't recognize.

He hangs up, his steps hurried as he returns. "We need to leave. Now."

"What? Why?"

He grabs my arm, his grip firm but not painful. "It's my father. He… he's been behind everything. Victoria. The attacks. All of it."

The world tilts. "Why? Why would he do that?"

Alex's eyes are dark, filled with something I can't name. "Because he thinks you're a threat. And he's not going to stop."

Before I can process what he's saying, the door swings open again. But it's not the nurse. It's a man in a dark suit, his eyes cold and unfeeling. He steps inside, blocking the exit.

Alex's grip tightens on my arm. "Stay behind me."

The man smiles, a cruel twist of his lips. "You really thought you could hide from him, Alex? He wants her. And he's not asking anymore."

My blood runs cold. The room feels too small, the walls closing in.

Alex steps forward, his voice low, dangerous. "You're not touching her."

The man's smile widens. "We'll see about that."

In an instant, the lights flicker. The air fills with the tension of an unseen threat.

A metallic glint flashes from the man's hand. My heart stops.

The sound of a gunshot shatters the silence.

Alex shoves me behind him, his body shielding mine. His eyes are wild, locked on the man who now stands now with the gun pointed directly to us. A thin wisp of smoke curls from the barrel. The metallic scent mixing with the sterile hospital air

"That was a warning shot," the man says, his voice cold, almost bored. "The next one won't miss."

My knees feel like they might buckle, but I force myself to stand tall. My fingers clutch Alex's jacket, my knuckles white. Behind me, my mother's fragile breathing fills the room, a cruel reminder of what's at stake.

Alex doesn't move. His body is tense, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. "You don't want to do this," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

The man smiles, a cruel twist of his lips. He steps closer, his eyes never leaving Alex. "It's not up to me," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "You know how this works, Alex. Your father made it very clear. The girl comes with us."

His father?

What does Alex's father want with me? And why is Alex declining? The more I have these unanswered questions linger in my mind, I gets more scared and confused.

Alex's jaw tightens. His eyes flick between the man and the door, calculating. "Tell him it's over. Whatever he thinks he's going to get from this—it won't work."

The man laughs, a hollow, empty sound that chills me. "You don't get it, do you? It's already too late."

In a heartbeat, Alex moves. His hand smashes into the man's wrist, sending the gun flying. It clatters to the floor, sliding across the tiles. Chaos explodes around us.

The man throws a punch; Alex blocks it, twisting the man's arm back with a sickening crack. The man screams, his face contorted in pain.

"Run, Emma!" Alex shouts, his voice raw, desperate.

I hesitate, my eyes darting to my mother. She's still asleep, unaware of the danger. My feet feel glued to the ground. How can I leave her?

"Go!" Alex's voice is rough, frantic.

I stumble toward the door, my mind screaming in protest. Every instinct tells me to stay, to help him, but I force myself to move. My hand grips the door handle, heart pounding. I pull it open, but before I can step out, a shadow looms in the doorway.

He's tall, his figure a dark silhouette against the dim light of the corridor. The cold glint in his eyes makes my breath catch.

"Going somewhere?" His voice is a low, menacing drawl.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up. Behind me, the sounds of the struggle continue—Alex's grunts, the sickening thud of fists meeting flesh.

"Move!" Alex shouts, desperation in his voice.

But I can't. The man steps forward, each movement deliberate, predatory.

The pieces start to click together in my mind—Alex's father, the threats, the chaos. But why? Why me?

He smiles, a cruel twist of his lips. "You have no idea what you're caught up in, do you?"

I can't breathe. My mother's soft, fragile breathing echoes in the room behind me, a cruel reminder of what's at stake.

And as the man reaches for me, I realize—this nightmare is far from over.