Page 69 of Dark Seduction
"I'm furious at this failure," I confess, the admission raw. "But I promise you, this will be rectified. We will find who’s behind this, and we will make them pay dearly."
My tone leaves no room for doubt, my commitment to safeguarding my family absolute. We will turn this crisis into a catalyst for tightening our defenses and striking back with precision. The next move is ours.
I take a moment to survey the scene, noting that the firefighters and EMTs seem to have things under control. I turn to Luk. "I need you to take over here, ensure everyone is looked after."
"Of course," Luk replies.
With that responsibility handed off, I address the rest of my men. "I'm heading to the hospital to check on Dalia.”
I stride to my car with purpose. Slipping behind the wheel, I roughly pull off my bow tie, the fabric suddenly irritating and feeling like a noose. As the engine springs to life, I press the accelerator, the car's power mirroring the surge of adrenaline through my veins.
As I race down the road, anger simmers within me, a lethal quiet storm. This was an attack not just on our wedding but on my family, on everything I stand to protect.
The thought of Dalia, scared and hurt, fuels a growing resolve.
This isn't just about retribution; it's about sending a message—no one threatens my family and lives to tell the tale.
Chapter 30
Dalia
Isit in a hospital room, feeling the sterile chill more than ever as doctors prepare to check for my baby's heartbeat.
I'm a bundle of nerves, desperately wishing Lev was here holding my hand.
The doctor and nurse start setting up the equipment for the ultrasound, trying to offer comforting smiles throughout the process.
Every second that ticks by feels like an hour as they move the ultrasound wand over my stomach. The cool gel on my skin and the soft hum of the machine are the only sounds before the room finally fills with the quick, rhythmic beat of the baby’s heart. I hold my breath, my own heart caught in my throat.
Tears start streaming down my cheeks as I hear the steady, strong heartbeat of my baby echoing through the room.
The doctor gives me a reassuring smile. "Everything sounds great with the heartbeat. It looks like the smoke and stress didn't affect your little one at all. And you’re measuring right around eight weeks."
I'm so overwhelmed with relief that my mind goes a bit fuzzy with gratitude. “Thank you.”
"We want to make sure everything else is okay while you're here. If all's well, you'll be free to go soon," the doctor tells me.
They start by checking my lungs for any smoke damage. I feel the cold metal of the stethoscope as they press it against my back and chest, asking me to take deep breaths. Each inhale and exhale feels like a triumph.
Next, they look over my skin for any burns or signs of irritation that might've come from the heat or smoke. They're super thorough, making sure they don’t miss anything that could cause trouble later on.
As they perform the exam, my mind can't stop replaying the day's scary moments—smoke filling the church, everyone scrambling, the doors jammed shut. I shiver thinking about how close it all came to turning into a tragedy.
I try to shake off the fear, focusing instead on the here and now, especially that little heartbeat that’s still going strong, reassuring me that life keeps ticking on, no matter what.
The doctor wraps up his checkup, giving me a clean bill of health, at least physically.“Why don’t you lie back and relax for a bit. Let the IV run through and make sure you’re good and hydrated.”
I nod and thank him as he walks out of the room.
I automatically rest my hand on my belly, a huge sigh of relief escaping me knowing my little one is safe. But the silence soon lets my mind wander back to the fire, to the thick smoke that seemed to swallow everything in sight.
My thoughts start to spin out worse and worse scenarios. I imagine us all trapped, the doors locked tight, the fire closing in.
Sitting here alone, those terrifying images just won’t stop replaying in my head, and all I can think about is keeping my baby safe. The more I think about it, the more it feels like my life with Lev, despite all his efforts, is like balancing on a knife’s edge.
It’s not just the scare today that’s got me so shaken; it’s realizing how often danger seems to lurk around us. Being with Lev, in his world, comes with real risks, and now that I’m going to be a mom, those risks feel a thousand times more significant.
The fear is eating away at me, building with every moment I sit here alone, making me wonder if our future together is just one big, dangerous gamble.