Veiled in Rivalry | The Dark Tale of Passion and Power| [18+]

Chapter 15: Echoes of Sorrow

"Amidst the ruins of war and the fragments of trust, the heart seeks solace even in the presence of those it cannot fully forgive."

---

Lara Volkov

I sob uncontrollably as the doctor gives us the news. Ivan will live, but he won't be able to walk for weeks. He won't be able to do anything on his own. It's a miracle he's still alive. The tears fall, one after another, while I cling to Maxim and Denis. They're trying to comfort me, whispering things I can't even hear through the grief swallowing me whole. Father and Viktor stand just outside the ICU, their faces stiff and unreadable.

I walk inside, every step feeling like I'm dragging a boulder behind me. Ivan is so still, lying there in the hospital bed. His eyes are closed, his face covered in cuts, and bandages wrap his body. Machines beep around him, a constant rhythm that matches my rising dread. My chest tightens. It's hard to breathe. His face, always so full of life and warmth, is pale and swollen, with tubes keeping him tied to this world.

I choke on a sob. "Иван..." I whisper, my voice cracking. (Ivan...)

I reach for his hand, the one that always held mine when we were kids, the hand that always promised protection. It feels cold, lifeless. My heart shatters all over again. "Please, Иван, проснись..." I beg, barely managing to get the words out. (Please, Ivan, wake up...)

Maxim and Denis are standing by the door, their faces tight with worry, their eyes mirroring my pain. "Он сильный, Лара," Maxim says, but I hear the fear in his voice. (He's strong, Lara.)

Denis nods, even though his eyes are rimmed with tears he's too proud to let fall. "Мы не можем его потерять." (We can't lose him.)

I cry harder, shaking, my whole body trembling as I pray that Ivan wakes up, that he opens his eyes and looks at me like he always has. The room is filled with the sound of my sobs, the mechanical beeps of the machines, and the soft shuffle of footsteps outside. The sunlight streaming through the window feels too bright, too indifferent to the suffering in this room.

"Ты должен бороться, Иван," I whisper through the tears, gripping his hand tighter. (You have to fight, Ivan.)

The morning light stretches longer across the floor, casting shadows on everything, even him. I sit on the edge of the bed, still holding his hand, refusing to let go, even though I can barely feel my fingers anymore. My heart is breaking, over and over again, each breath harder than the last.

"I can't live without you, Иван..." I whisper, my voice so weak it barely sounds like mine. (I can't live without you, Ivan...)

My vision blurs. Dark spots are dancing at the corners of my eyes. I feel dizzy, the room spinning around me. I can't stop crying. The world feels like it's caving in on me, and before I know it, my legs give out, and I collapse onto the floor beside Ivan's bed. His hand still clutched in mine, the machines beeping steadily in the background, the last thing I hear before everything goes dark is the distant sound of my family calling my name.

----

When I open my eyes, everything is hazy, unfamiliar. The lights are too bright, the room feels wrong. It takes me a moment to realize I'm lying on a hospital bed, but it's not Ivan's room. It's not even the ICU. Panic floods me as I try to sit up, but Viktor is right there, his arms around me, holding me down, whispering softly.

"Лара, успокойся," he says gently, his voice almost soothing. (Lara, calm down.)

I freeze, his touch feels like ice. How dare he? How dare he hold me like this, act like he cares? Rage boils up inside me, and I push against him with all the strength I have left. "Stay away from me, Viktor!" I scream, my voice hoarse from crying. "You wanted this war! And now my brother is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life because of you. If anything happens to him... if he dies, I swear, I'll never forgive you!"

The words spill out like venom, each one tasting bitter as it leaves my mouth. Viktor's face hardens, his eyes darkening, but he stays quiet. He doesn't argue. He doesn't even try to explain himself. His silence only makes me angrier.

"Как ты мог, Виктор?!" I yell, my whole body shaking with fury. (How could you, Viktor?!)

He looks at me, his eyes full of something I can't read, something I don't want to understand. "Я не хотел, чтобы все так сложилось," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. (I didn't want it to turn out this way.)

I feel the anger flare hotter inside me. "Ты лжешь! Ты знал, что случится!" I shout, my words dripping with accusation. (You're lying! You knew what would happen!)

"Я знал," he admits, his voice steady, though there's a flicker of regret in his eyes. "Но у меня не было выбора." (I knew, but I had no choice.)

I push him away, every breath ragged, my heart pounding in my chest. "Уходи. Я не хочу тебя видеть." (Leave. I don't want to see you.)

Viktor's face hardens for a moment, but he doesn't move. "Я не могу уйти, Лара. Ты мне нужна." His voice is firm, but there's something in it that sounds almost like desperation. (I can't leave, Lara. You need me.)

"Я не нуждаюсь в тебе!" I scream, tears burning my eyes again. "Мне нужен мой брат!" (I don't need you! I need my brother!)

The room falls silent, my words hanging in the air between us. Viktor doesn't respond right away. His eyes are locked on mine, his face unreadable. Finally, he reaches for me, but I pull back before he can touch me.

"Пожалуйста, Лара," he says softly, his voice breaking through the quiet. "Позволь мне помочь тебе." (Please, Lara. Let me help you.)

I shake my head, the tears flowing again, my chest aching with every breath. "Помощь? Ты причинил мне больше боли, чем кто-либо," I whisper through gritted teeth. (Help? You've caused me more pain than anyone.)

His expression crumples for just a second, his eyes filled with something close to regret. "Я знаю," he says quietly, the words weighed down by guilt. "Но я все равно здесь." (I know. But I'm still here.)

I don't know what to say. My body is shaking, the tears falling faster. "Почему?" I whisper, my voice breaking. (Why?)

"Потому что я не могу уйти. Не могу оставить тебя одну," he replies, his voice soft, almost pleading. (Because I can't leave. I can't leave you alone.)

I fall back against the bed, the weight of everything crushing me. "Я не могу это выдержать, Виктор," I confess, my voice small, broken. (I can't bear this, Viktor.)

He sits beside me, close but not touching, his presence confusing. I hate him. I'm sure I do. But in this moment, his being here is the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. "Ты сильная, Лара. Мы справимся вместе," he whispers, his voice low, steady. (You're strong, Lara. We'll get through this together.)

The words linger in the air. I want to hate him for saying them, for being so calm, but something in me can't. Not right now. I'm too tired, too broken. So, I let the silence take over, let the tears dry slowly on my face as I lean back into the cold comfort of his presence.

For now, just for now, I don't fight anymore.