As I slowly regained consciousness, the sterile smell of the hospital filled my nostrils, and the harsh fluorescent lights stung my eyes. My heart raced as the news of Dawood's shooting flooded back, a wave of fear crashing over me.
Dawood!!!
Panic seized my chest, and I struggled to sit up, my hands trembling as I clutched the sheets.
"Dawood!" I whispered, my voice hoarse and barely audible. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I tried to understand what had happened. The thought of losing him sent a shiver down my spine, and I reached for the call button beside the bed, desperate for answers.
Emotions swirled inside me like a storm, each one more intense than the last. Fear, anger, and helplessness tangled together, threatening to overwhelm me. But beneath it all, there was a glimmer of hope, a tiny flicker in the darkness that whispered, "He'll be okay. He has to be."
As the nurses rushed into the room, their voices a blur of urgency, I clung to that hope with all my strength. Dawood was strong, and resilient—he would fight through this, just as we would fight through anything together.
Natasha entered the room after the nurses with a solemn expression, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and concern.
"Natasha!" I exclaimed, my voice thick with panic. "Have you heard anything about Dawood? Is he okay?"
Natasha's eyes widened at my frantic tone, and she quickly moved to embrace me, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace. "Emma, calm down," she urged gently, her voice soothing. "Dawood is safe. He's okay."
Relief flooded through me like a tidal wave, and I collapsed into Natasha's arms, tears streaming down my cheeks as the weight of fear lifted from my shoulders. "Thank God," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.
Natasha took a deep breath before speaking, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Dawood... he's alright. He wasn't shot."
Confusion washed over me, and I furrowed my brow in disbelief. "But the news..." I trailed off, unable to comprehend what Natasha was implying.
"He faked the shooting," Natasha continued, her gaze intense as she locked eyes with me. "He did it to expose the truth about Hamza."
Dawood had faked the shooting? It felt like the ground had shifted beneath my feet, leaving me teetering on the edge of disbelief and understanding.
My mind reeled at her words, struggling to process the revelation. "Hamza?" I repeated my voice barely a whisper. "What does he have to do with this?"
"He did it to expose Hamza's plan," Natasha's voice echoed in my mind, each word carrying the weight of truth and revelation. But why did Dawood orchestrate such a risky scheme without my knowledge? And why hadn't he confided in me?
A surge of conflicting emotions washed over me, threatening to drown me in a sea of confusion and uncertainty. Anger simmered beneath the surface, mingling with relief and gratitude for Dawood's safety. But above all, there was a sense of betrayal, a gnawing ache in my chest as I struggled to make sense of it all.
How could Dawood have kept such a monumental secret from me? Did he still not trust me? Despite my repeated assurances and knowing I was pregnant, he planned something that shook me to the core. Did the well-being of our child be of no consequence to him? Didn't he think once how his actions would affect my pregnancy? The realization stung like a fresh wound, leaving me raw and vulnerable.
YOU ARE READING
The Bound Princess (Dark Romance)
Romance"Strip." I felt like I misheard him, but his hardened features said otherwise. I gulped down the lump in my throat and moved my hands to my back to unzip my wedding dress. "Princess, I suggest you to hurry," his golden eyes bore into mine, making...
