Chains of Obsession

42

♡Emilia♡

•Few weeks later•

Fuck fuck fuck.

Antonio is calling to Alexander as I sit here, trying to calm myself down. I accidentally crashed Alexander's car-and into a freaking light pole, no less!

I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my nerves. My brain keeps replaying the entire scene in my head, the car swerving, the sound of metal crunching.

What's going to happen when he finds out?

Just the thought of what he's going to say, what he's going to do, sends a wave of anxiety through me. I know how much he loves his car-it's his baby. And here I am, the one who wrecked it.

My mind races as I think of excuses, explanations, apologies, anything that might soften the blow. But nothing feels good enough. I screwed up big time.

♤Alexander♤

I step out of the car as it comes to a stop, and I can immediately tell something's wrong. Antonio stands there, his face serious and worried. I follow his gaze to a small figure on the grass.

Even from a distance, I can see that it's Emilia. She's hunched over, her head in her hands, her body trembling. That's when I notice-the blood on her hands, on her knees. My heart sinks.

I hurry over to where she's sitting, my men following close behind. When I reach her, I can see that she's having a full-blown panic attack. She's hyperventilating, her eyes wide and unseeing.

Without hesitation, I kneel down next to her, gently placing a hand on her back.

"Emilia," I say, my voice firm but gentle. "Darling, look at me."

She doesn't seem to hear me, too, lost in her own panicked state.

I try again, a little louder this time. "Emilia, sweetheart. It's me. Look at me."

She finally lifts her head, her eyes locking with mine. They're wide and frightened, tears streaming down her face. Her breathing is still ragged and quick, her whole body quaking.

I keep my voice steady as I speak again. "You're having a panic attack, sugar. I need you to slow down, okay? Focus on my voice and take a few deep breaths."

She nods slightly, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. I can tell she's trying to listen, trying to calm herself, but the panic has a tight hold on her.

I keep talking, keep murmuring soothing words. "You're safe, love. I'm here. You're going to be okay. Just focus on breathing. In...and out...in...and out. Slowly now."

I gently take her hands in mine, rubbing my thumbs over her knuckles. Her skin is cold, her fingers trembling. I notice the small cuts and scrapes on her hands and knees, likely from the accident.

As I hold her hands, I realize something else-her head is bleeding too. There's a small gash near her hairline, and blood is trickling down, staining her hair a dark red.

That realization only increases my worry. She must have hit her head during the accident-no wonder she's in this state. I need to assess the damage, but first, I need to get her calmed down.

I keep talking, gently rubbing her hands. "Just breathe, love. You're doing so well. In...and out...in...and out. Nice deep breaths. Good girl. You're doing great."

She nods again, her breathing slowly starting to normalize. The tears still stream down her face, but her chest isn't rising and falling as rapidly as before.

"That's it," I murmur. "Just breathe. You're doing so well."

I reach up, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. I take a moment to assess the cut on her forehead-it doesn't look too deep, but it's certainly going to need attention.

She lets out a small whimper when I touch the cut, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before reopening. I can tell it hurts. But we'll deal with that later. Right now, I need to keep her calm.

I keep my voice low and soothing. "It's okay, love. I'm here. You're safe. Just keep breathing. Slow, deep breaths. In...and out...in...and out."

Her breathing gradually starts to even out, and her chest rises and falls in a more regular rhythm. The panicked look in her eyes is slowly fading, replaced by a dazed, exhausted expression.

"I... I'm sorry.... I know h-how much you care about your car a-and I crashed it. I crashed your baby." She told me with tears.

I knew that she hated crying in front of others, but the way she was talking about my car, like I would care more about my car and then her.

My heart clenches at her words. She's apologizing and crying, all because she thinks I care more about the car. It breaks my heart.

I shake my head, my hands grasping hers tighter. "Darling, you don't need to apologize," I tell her, my voice firm but gentle. "I don't care about the damn car. I care about you."

I can see the relief and surprise in her eyes at my words. But I mean it. I couldn't care less about the car. I only care about her, her safety, and her well-being.

I bring her hands up to my lips, pressing a kiss against her knuckles.

"You're far more important than any stupid car," I continue, my voice soft and sincere. "I can always get another car. I can't get another you."

I lift her hands up, placing them against my chest, right above my heart.

"This," I say, tapping my chest lightly, "this is what's important to me. You. Your safety. Your happiness. Understand, love?"

I watch as her eyes widen, her breathing still a bit shaky. But she nods, seeming to understand my words.

"I-I understand," she whispers, her voice so fragile and small.

I nod, satisfied that she gets it. I squeeze her hands gently, offering a small, reassuring smile.

"Good girl," I murmur. "Now, let's get you patched up, hm? You're bleeding all over the place, love."

"I don't feel well..." she mumbled as she leaned forward.

Her words and the way she leans forward alarms me. I reach out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, supporting her.

"What do you mean, you don't feel well?" I ask, my voice suddenly urgent.

"Shit," I mutter as she collapses against me, her body going limp.

My heart thumps in my chest as I grab her, gathering her into my arms.

"Antonio! Call the doctor," I bark, my voice sharp. "And get the first aid kit from my car. Now!"

As I hold her in my arms, my mind is racing. She's lost consciousness. That can't be good. I'm not a medical expert, but I know that passing out could be a sign of something far worse than just a panic attack and a few scratches.

"Come on, sugar," I murmur, one hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. "Stay with me, love."

Antonio returns with the first aid kit, his face serious and worried. He knows the situation has just gotten serious. I set Emilia on the grass, careful not to move her too much.

"Keep an eye on her breathing," I tell him, opening the kit and pulling out gauze, antiseptic, and other supplies. "Tell me if anything changes."

I start tending to her wounds, mostly superficial, but her head wound is the one I'm most concerned about. I clean the cut, apply an antiseptic, and put a pressure bandage on it. All the while, I'm watching her face, waiting for her to wake up.

"Boss, our doctor will be here in 15 minutes." One of my men spoke up, before Antonio spoke too, "Fuck. Her breathing is slowing down."

♤♤♤

I feel like I've been waiting for an eternity when the doctor's car finally pulls up. He hurries over, carrying his medical bag with him.

"What happened?" he asks as he crouches down next to us.