Chapter 1: The Bloodied Note

The blood on the note stared back at him.

It was fresh, weakening the paper even.

That was the last thing Juan had expected to find—especially at the foot of a hospital bed. He stared back at it with hard and red eyes, hands trembling as he read those words over and over again.

This is just the beginning...

You'll pay for everything...

He looked up at Arya who lay on the hospital bed. Her face had become a pale white color, almost blending seamlessly into the sheets. The bandage on her chest had bled through again, spreading out in a rose-like pattern. The doctors had mentioned stopping the bleeding, but they must not have done a good job.

"Sir, please step back," one of the nurses said, pulling at his sleeve.

Juan didn’t move. He kept staring, barely blinking, his breathing slow and shallow.

"Sir!" the doctor called sharply, snapping on gloves. "We need to stabilize her."

He finally took a step back, his feet feeling heavy, his chest tight. He watched as they pulled the bandages away and pressed down new gauze, replacing the drip with something else. The beeping machine beside Arya quickened, the sounds piercing but distant in his ears.

He clenched his fists by his side. His nails dug into his palms. He could feel the sweat on his neck, the tension in his jaw. His heart pounded harder, a steady thud against his ribs.

“Come on, Arya,” he whispered under his breath. "Come on."

The nurses worked fast, their voices overlapping. "BP dropping!" "Get another unit of blood!" "Keep her airway clear!"

Juan felt sick to his stomach. He turned slightly, resting a hand on the cold wall, trying to steady himself. He had seen plenty of blood before. He had caused plenty of blood before. But this was different because it was her.

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but when he opened them, they went right back to her face. She looked too still, her chest barely rising, her lips parted slightly. His throat tightened, and he forced himself to breathe.

The door opened sharply behind him.

“Juan.”

Juan turned, his eyes narrowing as Dominic walked in. Dominic’s arm was wrapped in a thick bandage, his jacket stained dark in places. His face was pale, his jaw clenched. He walked in, his eyes flicking between Arya and Juan.

"How exactly did it happen?" Dominic asked, his voice low but steady. "Giuseppe meant to kill her or?"

Juan ran a hand through his hair, his fingers shaking. "She... she took a bullet meant for me."

Dominic let out a soft laugh that had no humor in it. He looked away for a second, shaking his head. "And you allowed it."

Juan stepped forward slightly. "I didn't—"

Dominic raised a hand, stopping him. He let out a long breath, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, they were hard and sharp. "You said you'd protect her."

"And I did all I could," Juan snapped angrily. This last thing he needed was for someone to blams him while he was spiralling.

Behind them, the doctor called out, "We're stabilizing her now, but she needs rest. You both need to leave the room."

Juan didn’t move.

Dominic touched his good hand to Juan’s shoulder. "Juan. Come on."

Juan pulled away, shaking his head. "I can't leave her."

"You can’t help her by standing here," Dominic said quietly. "Let them work."

Juan looked at Arya one last time before stepping back. His chest felt hollow. He walked out slowly, his steps dragging. Dominic followed behind, his boots scuffing lightly against the floor.

In the hallway, Juan leaned against the wall, rubbing his face with both hands. He let out a shaky breath, pressing his palms over his eyes.

"We should have been more careful,' Dominic said softly, standing a few feet away.

Juan lowered his hands.

There was a long silence between them.

Dominic sat down on one of the chairs by the wall, cradling his bandaged arm. "Do you know who sent the note? Giuseppe right?"

"Who else would it be?" Juan scoffed, laughing bitterly."

Dominic sighed, running a hand through his hair. "This whole thing's a mess."

Juan didn’t answer. He kept staring at the floor, his mind racing, his chest still tight. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Arya’s pale face, the blood on her chest, the note with its smeared letters.

"She’s strong," Dominic said quietly. "She'll be fine."

"I know."

The hallway stayed quiet for a while. Nurses moved back and forth. A cart rattled down the hall. Somewhere, a phone rang briefly and then stopped.

Dominic leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. "So what’s next?"

Juan looked up at him. "I don’t know."

Dominic raised an eyebrow. "You don’t know?"

Juan rubbed his hands together. "I didn’t plan for this."

Dominic let out a short laugh. "Clearly."

Juan gave him a sharp look.

Dominic shrugged, shifting in his seat. "I’m just saying."

Juan leaned against the wall again, closing his eyes. "I need to find out who he sent to poison the drip."

Dominic nodded slowly. "And then what?"

Juan opened his eyes, his gaze cold. "And then I make them pay."

Dominic stood up, wincing slightly as he moved his arm. "You always think revenge fixes things."

Juan didn’t answer.

Dominic walked over, standing in front of him. "Juan, listen to me. You need to think. Not just react."

Juan’s jaw tightened. "I am thinking."

"Really? Because all I see is a man ready to blow everything up."

Juan stared at him, his hands curling into fists.

Dominic stepped closer, his voice dropping. "She took a bullet meant for you. And you allowed it."

Juan flinched slightly, his eyes darkening.

Dominic shook his head slowly. "I thought you would die for her, kill for her, and let the world burn for her."