BAM
Darien didn't care that his study door slammed into the wall so hard after he pushed it open with such force. He felt like he could break everything to vent his anger.
It wasn't because he was attacked by those men. Not at all. They were merely an annoyance. And for him, that was essentially a warm-up. He wouldn't have had any trouble dealing with a hundred more of them.
But when he remembered Amara's face, filled with terror and covered in scars and bruises, his hands clenched into fists. He was unable to get rid of that image.
He let out a sigh, feeling that even killing those men wasn't enough. He moved around the desk but didn't sit. He hated the fact that his hands were still shaking.
A second later, the door burst open again.
"The hell, Darien, you okay?" A panicked voice cracked through the tension.
It was Theor, his best friend and secretary, all worry on his face, his glasses almost falling off.
Darien looked up slowly. "Do I look like someone who's not?"
Theor squinted, scanning him from head to toe. "Honestly? Yeah, a bit. You look like you just wrestled a pack of wolves and won, but not without losing something."
Darien stared at him blankly. "Do you really think those fools could take me down?"
"Right. Of course not." Theor held up his hands. "What a dumb question. Forget I asked. Still, though… What the hell happened down there? It's messier than usual. God…"
Darien's mouth curled. "Routine. A few uninvited guests blocked my path. They launched an attack. Nothing worth remembering."
"Routine, huh?" Theor flopped down on the couch across from the desk and ran a hand through his hair. "Though I'm more than glad to avoid including corpses in my routine."
"Hhmm," Darien muttered, finally sinking into his chair. "So?"
"Oh! Right!" Theor's eyes widened as though he'd just remembered why he came. "I took care of the bodies. Burned them. Same as usual. No one will trace them."
Darien nodded once, his eyes distant. "Good."
Theor moved to sit across from him, leaning back and crossing his arms. "I'll never understand how these idiots keep thinking they can take you down. It's like volunteering for suicide."
Darien's mouth twitched, but before he could reply, a soft knock sounded at the door.
"Come in."
The door opened and Felira stepped in, standing near the door. "Sir, Doctor Martz has arrived, and…"
Before she could finish, Theor turned toward Darien. "Wait. You said you're fine. Why is Elio here?"
"He's not here for me."
Theor blinked. "What? Then who…"
"For Amara."
Felira glanced between them, unsure if she should speak more, but Darien was already on his feet. "Where is he?"
"He's checking on the lady right now.".
Darien walked past her with Theor scrambled up from the chair. "The cleaning lady's here?" He jogged after him down the corridor to the grand staircase. "You owe me a story, dude."
Darien stopped. His head turned slowly, eyes cold. "She has a name."
Theor held up both hands. "Right, sorry."
Darien started walking again. Theor still trailed behind. "Ok, fine. What's Amara doing here anyway?"
Darien stopped again, a faint muscle ticking in his jaw. "Don't say her name so casually."
Theor groaned quietly. "Oh, for heaven's sake! What do you want me… fine. What's Miss Hayes doing in your home, My Lord?"
"She was hurt because of those men."
Theor's brows rose. "Ah. That explains your mood."
He didn't respond anymore and pushed open another set of doors, and there she was. Amara sat on the edge of the bed, hair still damp, and she already changed into pajamas.
Elio Martz, his doctor, also a close friend, was crouched beside her, checking her arm.
Darien's chest tightened at the sight of the bruise across her collarbone.
"How is she?" His voice came out rougher than intended. "Is she okay? Is there any serious injury?"
Elio looked up with a grin. "Whoa, whoa… slow down, Dari. You sound like a worried husband."
Darien glared. "Answer the question."
"Alright, alright," Elio said, still smiling. "Some bruises and cuts. Her shoulder took a bad hit, probably from the impact when she hit the wall. There's swelling, but nothing is broken. No internal damage. She's tougher than she looks." He started packing his bag. "Gave her a mild sedative, so she'll get drowsy soon."
He threw Amara a teasing grin. "You, my dear, should stop trying to play hero."
Amara smiled shyly at hearing that, and Darien immediately glared at him. Elio chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'll take that as my cue to leave." He straightened and gave a polite bow. "You're in good hands, Miss Hayes. Try to rest."
"Thank you, Dr. Martz."
He smiled and as he passed Darien, he murmured, "You owe me for this late-night house call," and slipped out.
He left with a grin before Darien could reply.
Darien pulled a chair beside her bed. He didn't sit right away, just watched her, how her fingers fidgeted with the blanket, or how she avoided his eyes. When he finally did sit, he leaned forward.
"How do you feel?"
Amara's lips curved slightly. "Better than when I was in that basement."
He nodded. "That's… good to hear."
He hesitated before reaching for her cheek, but when she instinctively drew back, he stopped. The corner of his mouth twitched in a faint smile. "You're not used to this yet. I get it."
Silence filled the room again for a while before Theron cleared his throat. Darien turned around and saw him walk closer. "What are you still doing here? Go follow Elio or something"
"Hey, I worry about Miss Hayes here." Theron said, touching his chest as if he was hurt by what Darien said, but Darien knew better than that.
He turned to look at Amara and reached out his hand. "Hello, Miss Hayes. Too bad we meet under these circumstances. I'm Theron Leopold, this man's secretary, as you may know." He introduced himself while pointing at Darien with his chin.
Amara reached out and shaked his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Leopold. Yeah, I know you."
"EKHEM!" Both Darien and Theron looked at Darien who glared at them both, no, at Theron, especially."Theron, she needs to rest and I know there's nothing more you need to report, so I think it's better if you go home now."
"Oh, you're right." Theron smiled before pulling away. "Hope you get better soon, Miss Hayes. And please bear with him, it's just in our nature to be possessive like this."
"Theron…." Darien called out his name and Theron looked at him.
"Oh, you haven't told her?"
"Geez. Fine. Good luck, Miss Hayes."
And Theron was gone. Amara looked confused by what Theron said and asked, "What's that, Mr. Dravik?"
He helped her ease back against the pillows, careful not to touch the bruised spots. She watched him quietly, too tired to argue.
"Rest," he said softly. "We'll talk later."
Her eyes fluttered, fighting sleep, but she managed to whisper, "Talk about what?"
He didn't answer right away. He looked at her face, pale, peaceful, fragile in a way that twisted something deep in his chest.
"About everything," he said finally. "But not tonight."
He reached down, smoothing the blanket over her stomach. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this."
She blinked sleepily, a yawn escaping. "It's… not a problem." Her words were slurred, soft.
A few seconds later, her breathing evened out.
Darien stayed where he was, watching her. The faint sound of rain began tapping against the windows. Her hand slipped from the blanket, resting near his. He hesitated before reaching out, taking it gently.
Her skin was warm. It was real.
He stared at her face, the faint bruise near her jawline, how her chest slowly rose and fell. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "This will be the first and last time I let you get hurt."
He lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. Just once. Just enough for the promise to seal itself in the air.