I froze, unable to process that he was here, of all places. Marco, my ex’s older brother, and the one man I both feared and couldn’t seem to escape.
My body reacted on instinct, trying to get to my feet, but the exhaustion from the emotional beating I’d taken wouldn’t let me move fast enough.
Before I knew it, Marco had scooped me up effortlessly, his firm arms cradling me as though I weighed nothing. The sheer strength of him, the familiar warmth radiating from his skin, momentarily chased away the rain’s cold bite.
His scent, a mixture of musk and something darker, something primal, clouded my senses. My cheeks flushed as I tried to keep my gaze anywhere but on his face.
We made our way toward the hospital lobby in silence, where a couple of guards quickly appeared, holding out a blanket to him. He wrapped it around me gently, his fingers brushing against my shoulders, lingering for just a moment.
“You’re drenched,” he murmured. “Are you alright?”
I blinked, his voice pulling me back from my thoughts. “Sorry… err… thank you,” I managed to say, though the words felt clumsy as if my mouth didn’t belong to me. I felt so small under his intense gaze, the weight of his concern making it hard to think straight.
Without waiting for a response, I headed into the lobby, feeling both grateful for his help and embarrassed at my current state. Marco followed closely, his presence an unshakable shadow. I was about to thank him again when a nurse approached us, looking tense.
“Excuse me, Miss Francesca,” she began, her expression unreadable, “your father’s medications are due, but the hospital has stopped all further treatments until we receive confirmation of payment.”
The words hit me like a blow. My heart sank, and tears immediately stung my eyes. How could I afford this? I’d been scrambling to keep up with the expenses, doing everything I could to make ends meet, but it wasn’t enough. The last of my savings had dried up weeks ago. I looked away, desperate to hide the tears that slipped down my cheeks.
Without hesitation, Marco stepped forward. “Where’s the accounts office?” he asked the nurse, his voice firm.
The nurse, taken aback, pointed toward the office down the hall. I watched, bewildered, as he walked over and, with a few clipped words, handed over a blank check. I barely had time to process what was happening.
Once he was finished, he turned to me, his expression softening just enough to melt the icy resolve in my heart. “It’s all taken care of,” he said simply.
Emotion flooded through me, gratitude mixed with confusion. I didn’t know what to say. I ran to him and, before I could stop myself, wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and grounding, beneath my touch.
“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the words were inadequate but unable to say more.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said softly. But then, as he pulled back, I saw a strange glint in his eyes, something that sent a quick chill through me. “But there is one thing I need in return, Francesca.”
I froze, wondering what he could want. My gratitude wavered, replaced with the cautious part of me that knew nothing came free, especially with someone like Marco. I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my voice steady.
“Okay… I’m listening.”
His face softened just slightly, but his eyes remained fixed on mine with an intensity that made me feel both vulnerable and strangely secure. Then, with a tone that was far too casual, he said, “I want you to marry me.”
I felt the floor drop from under me. My mind went blank, my vision swimming with disbelief. I staggered, my legs buckling, but before I could fall, Marco reached out and caught me, holding me steady. His grip was firm but gentle, and for a brief moment, I saw something in his gaze, a flicker of warmth, maybe even tenderness that made me want to believe he was serious.
“What… what did you just say?” I stammered my voice barely above a whisper.
“Marry me, Francesca,” he repeated as if he were discussing the weather. His gaze didn’t falter, didn’t waver. There was no sign of humor in his expression, no hint that this was anything but sincere. “You heard me.”
I looked down, unable to hold his gaze, feeling my pulse quicken. This was absurd. The man who’d once been a part of my nightmares, who I’d barely dared to speak to in the past, was asking me to marry him. This was the same man who, not so long ago, had barely concealed his irritation toward me.
But now, here he was, offering me his protection, his resources… his life. All for what?
“Why?” I finally managed to ask, my voice trembling. “Why would you want to marry me?”
His gaze softened just a fraction. “You know why, Francesca. We both have scars, ones that are deeper than what anyone sees. And I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t care about you.”
His words hung in the air, a raw honesty that startled me. I felt the prick of tears again, but this time, they weren’t born of sadness or fear. They were a strange blend of relief, hope, and a deep-rooted longing I didn’t fully understand.
But could I trust him? Marco was dangerous, calculating, and enigmatic. His loyalty was known only to himself, and his loyalty to his family had faltered long ago. I had every reason to run, every reason to say no. Yet… something about his presence grounded me and made me feel safe.
After a long silence, I whispered, “I’ll think about it.”
Marco’s lips curved into a faint smile, the first real expression I’d seen on his face since our reunion. He brushed a stray strand of hair away from my cheek, his touch lingering just a moment too long. “Take all the time you need,” he murmured. “But know this, Francesca… once you decide, there’s no going back.”
With that, he turned and walked down the hallway, leaving me standing there, soaked, my mind spinning. I watched him go, my heart pounding, feeling the weight of his words press down on me.
Immediately, I turned my eyes met with theirs and froze from embarrassment.