Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Ward
Bianca felt a cold dread settle in her stomach. The hospital, which had always been her sanctuary, suddenly felt like a trap.
"What do we do?" she asked Dominic, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Tristan.
"We are doubling the guard," Dominic replied. "But Julian is desperate. He’s lost everything, and desperate men are unpredictable. I’ve suggested relocating Mr. Bellamy to a private medical facility owned by his family, but the doctors say he isn't stable enough to be moved yet. His lung function is still too weak."
Bianca looked through the glass at Tristan. He looked so peaceful, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She couldn't let anything happen to him.
"I'll stay with him," she said with sudden determination. "I know this hospital inside and out. I know every exit, every back corridor, and every security blind spot. If anyone tries to get near this room, I'll know."
Dominic looked at her with newfound respect. "Thank you, Miss Mendes. But please, be careful."
The night passed without incident, but the tension in the air was palpable. Bianca spent the hours checking on Tristan, adjusting his pillows, and whispering comforting words when he stirred in his sleep.
The next morning, Tristan’s condition had improved significantly. He was sitting up, the color returning to his face, and his voice was stronger.
"You look tired, Bianca," he said, his eyes scanning her face with concern as she checked his blood pressure. "When was the last time you slept in an actual bed?"
"I'm fine," she lied, giving him a warm smile. "I'm a nurse, remember? We run on coffee and sheer determination."
"You need to rest," he insisted, grabbing her hand. "I don't want my recovery to come at the expense of your health."
"Tristan, I am staying right here," she said firmly. "And you can't stop me."
He stared at her for a long moment, a soft, incredibly tender expression crossing his handsome face. "You are the most stubborn woman I have ever met."
"I wonder where I get that from," she teased.
Their tender moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Eleanor, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by a physical therapist.
"Look at you two," Eleanor beamed, her eyes sparkling. "The patient and the nurse. It’s like a scene out of a romance novel. Tristan, you look dreadful, but at least you have good company."
"Thank you, Mother," Tristan dryly replied.
"Bianca, dear, you've been working miracles," Eleanor said, taking Bianca's hand. "The doctors say I might be discharged by the end of the week. But I want to make sure my son is in good hands before I leave."
"He is," Bianca promised.
As Eleanor and the therapist left, Bianca felt a sudden wave of apprehension. The discharge meant Eleanor would be safe at home, but Tristan would still be here, a target.
Later that evening, the hospital fell quiet. It was raining again, the soft patter of water against the windows a soothing background noise. Bianca was sitting in the armchair beside Tristan’s bed, reading a medical journal, when she noticed the lights in the hallway flicker.
It was a common occurrence during heavy rainstorms, but then she heard a faint, metallic click from the doorway.
She stood up slowly, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. She looked out the small glass window of the ICU door.
The hallway was empty. The guard Dominic had posted at the door was gone.
Bianca’s heart leaped into her throat. She turned to Tristan, who was watching her, his eyes instantly sharp and alert. He, too, had noticed the sudden silence.
"Bianca," Tristan whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Get behind me."
"No," she whispered back, her mind racing. "The back exit. There’s a service elevator down the hall. We have to move you."
Before they could act, the door to the room swung open.
A man in a doctor's lab coat walked in, his face obscured by a surgical mask and a low-hanging cap. But Bianca recognized the wild, bloodshot eyes instantly.
It was Julian.
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He didn't have a stethoscope. In his right hand, he held a sleek, black handgun.
"Well, well," Julian sneered, pulling down his mask to reveal a maniacal, desperate grin. "The happy couple. I told you, Tristan. You're not untouchable."
