Chapter 1: Second Chance, Hidden Heart

After coming back to life, I was stunned to realize—even my quiet, gentle husband had a side I’d never seen before. Seriously, how had I missed it? Was I really that blind all those years?

It hit me—a cold wave right in the chest. Here was the man I’d lived with for years, thinking I knew every gentle line of his face, only to discover a depth I’d never even guessed at. Like I’d spent all that time beside a quiet lake, only to find out there was a riptide swirling underneath. Was I ever really paying attention?

He was cunning—possessive. Jealous to the bone.

There was something sharp in his gaze now. Something that flickered just beneath the surface whenever someone else looked my way. He’d always seemed so patient—too patient, really. But now I saw how tightly he’d held the reins, never letting his true feelings slip. It was a little terrifying, honestly. Still, I couldn’t look away.

To marry me, he’d schemed and plotted, setting every piece in place.

Suddenly, all those memories twisted. What I thought was chance—no, he meant it all. I remembered the way he’d shown up at the right moment, the way people around us seemed to nudge me in his direction. It was like realizing you’d been playing a game without knowing the rules, and he’d been the only one holding the playbook.

The day the truth finally surfaced, I looked at him, shaking. “So… did you ever really care about me?”

My voice was barely a whisper, my hands trembling so badly I had to tuck them behind my back. The words tasted bitter. I’d been afraid to ask for years. But now, I couldn’t hold back.

He took my hand and pressed it to his chest, letting out a soft, careless laugh.

There was something reckless in his smile. Like the truth was a blade, and he’d press it right to his own heart. I felt the heat of his skin under my palm, his heartbeat thudding wild and strong. The laugh echoed in the quiet room, low and a little dangerous.

“Want me to rip it out and show you, Lila?”

His voice dropped, rough around the edges, making my name sound like a secret he’d kept too long. For a split second, I almost believed he would do it—anything to prove what he felt. The air between us crackled with something raw, something I’d never let myself see before. My breath caught. What was I supposed to do with that?

I never thought the man I’d always treated so coldly would one day throw himself in front of a hail of bullets for me.

I’d always assumed he’d walk away if things got hard. But when the worst came—when everything went to hell—he was the one who stood in front of me. The memory burned in my mind: him, arms spread, shielding me from a danger I never saw coming. I’d never felt so unworthy, or so afraid.

His back was riddled with wounds, but he held me tight, keeping me safe in his arms.

Blood soaked through his shirt, dark and spreading, but he didn’t let go. Even as he staggered, he kept his arms locked around me, his breath ragged in my ear. I could feel his pain in every shudder, but he only held on tighter, like I was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Why did you come?” I stared at him, lost, tears streaming down my face.

The words tumbled out, desperate and broken. I couldn’t stop the tears—they blurred everything, made the world tilt and spin. I wanted to scream at him, to beg him not to leave me, but all I could do was ask why. Why would he risk everything for me, after all I’d done?

He smiled, about to answer, but coughed up blood.

The smile was crooked, shaky, and then he doubled over, red staining his lips. My heart lurched. For a moment, I thought I’d lose him right there, and the world shrank down to the space between us—just me, him, and the blood on his hands.

He took a moment to breathe, then whispered, “Lila, I want you to remember me for the rest of your life.”

His voice was barely there, but every word landed like a promise I could never forget. I reached for him, but his eyes were already closing, and the world faded out beneath me.

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