HIS FIRST LADY(SANDRO MARCOS)

Chapter 19: Guardian Angel

I roll out of the way just in time as the boar charges past.

"Rafha!" Cloudine calls out from several yards down the trail, having managed to steady her horse. Sparkle Heart, still agitated from earlier, continues to run.

"Go! Keep riding!" I shout back. "Get help!"

"I can't just leave you!" Cloudine's horse, restless with the stillness, begins to stamp its hooves. I can see that her hesitation won't last much longer; the horse is about to bolt. "Get help, Cloudine! Go!"

"Dammit! Shit!" Cloudine exclaims as she struggles with her reins, but her horse is already taking charge. It hobbles briefly before turning and galloping up the trail away from me. "Rafha!"

In a way, I'm relieved. Cloudine and the horses are safe. But...

Boars are invasive species, and there shouldn't be one in this forest at all. Perhaps that's why it was overlooked—none of the staff thought to look for them.

This boar in front of me is massive, larger than I ever knew they could grow. It seems territorial, as it turns and glares at me menacingly.

It lines up for another charge. I don't wait to find out. Instead, I sprint wildly into the forest, weaving between trees to keep some cover from the enraged beast.

Straying off the trail is risky. All riders were instructed not to veer off course, as any movement could mislead others into thinking I'm a predator on the hunt.

But the boar is faster. In an open space, it would catch me in no time. Only by zigzagging through the forest do I stand a chance.

My ankle, still healing, throbs with every step, sending sharp pain up my leg. The beast is panting behind me. If I collapse now, I could be trampled or gored. This boar could kill me, or if I survive, I might never be the same.

Thoughts of my daughters push me forward. I can't miss out on their milestones: birthdays, graduations, weddings, and maybe grandchildren.

I need to survive. As I dart through the forest, I search for a tree with low branches that I can jump onto. Boars can't climb, so a tree might be my best chance.

There! I spot a tree with upturned roots. If I can reach it, I should be able to jump from a root to the lowest branch.

To gain a bit more lead, I intentionally veer off course, wrapping myself around another tree to hide. When the boar rushes past my hiding spot, I sprint toward the upturned roots.

The boar stops and, realizing my trick, turns to chase me again.

It's too late.

I jump onto the root and climb to the lowest branch. Quickly, I scramble up to the next highest one and cling to the trunk.

The boar lets out an enraged squeal as it circles my tree. My ankle throbs and my breath comes in ragged gasps. I'm shaking, fueled only by adrenaline.

I wait, hoping the boar will give up and leave. But it's frothing at the mouth and stamping with frustration.

"Oh God, I don't want to die."

I've wasted years with a man who might never have loved me. I don't want to waste another second. If I survive, I want to seek out happiness and love.

Thoughts of Sandro drift into my mind—his mischievous smile, the strength in his arms, and how easily he carried me.

It's a misguided affair, likely doomed. But at this potential end, I wish I had more time with him.

Up in the tree, I should be safe. But then I hear a creaking noise. I realize the tree I chose might be the worst possible option. The branches are bare, the bark peeling off, and the trunk is mostly hollowed out.

In my panic, I didn't notice.

The branch beneath me creaks loudly and starts to crack under my weight. I cling desperately to the trunk, but the bark slips away.

With a final, thunderous crack, the branch breaks. I plummet to the ground.

—

A large bush partially breaks my fall. I roll out of it and land on the ground with a thud. Looking up, I see the furious boar, its eyes blazing red.

It digs at the ground, readying to charge. Even if I manage to stand and run, I wouldn't get far before those tusks reach me.

Desperate, I grab handfuls of dirt, grass, leaves, and bark, throwing them at the beast. They harmlessly bounce off.

I have no defense left. I brace myself for the pain.

Then, a shot rings out. A bullet strikes the boar, which lets out a piercing scream and collapses.

I open my eyes, stunned. The boar is dead.

Almost in disbelief, I check myself for injuries. Besides a few scrapes from the fall and a sore ankle, I'm okay.

This feels unreal. Am I dreaming? If I'm dead, why do I still feel pain?

"Rafha!"

I turn to see Sandro crashing through the brush, gun in hand. His hair is tousled, but his clothes are immaculate. He looks like a god sent from above to rescue me.

My guardian angel.

Sandro kneels beside me, his face etched with worry as he examines me for injuries. I can't stop staring at him—the perfect line of his jaw, his full bottom lip, the depth of his eyes.

Maybe the adrenaline is fading, or I'm in shock. But right now, everything else fades away as I focus on him.