Destiny's love

Part-65

Hitman's POV

The car screeches down the empty road, tires burning as I grip the wheel tight. My jaw clenches, sweat trickling down my temple—not from guilt, but from failure. I missed. The bullet only grazed her arm, and instead of finishing the job, I had to run.

I slam a hand against the steering wheel. Damn it. The boss won't like this.

Pulling the phone from my pocket, I dial his number. My breaths steady, my tone calm as ever, though inside my pride stings. "Job's done," I mutter when the line clicks open, "but not the way you wanted. The girl's alive. Head injury, small bullet scratch. She's not dead."

Rohan's POV

The phone vibrates on my desk. Finally. My lips curve into a smile as I snatch it up. "Tell me it's done," I say eagerly, already imagining the satisfaction of her gone.

But the words that spill from the other side twist my gut. Alive. Safe. Only scratched.

"What?" My voice cracks sharper than I intend. I shoot up from my chair so fast it nearly topples over. "You're telling me she's alive?" My breathing grows uneven.

And then the worst part hits me like thunder. "Who saved her?"

The hitman's reply is curt. Her best friend. Hayoung.

My fingers go numb. The phone nearly slips from my hand. Hayoung? My Hayoung was there?

Panic claws at my chest, wild and raw. If she's hurt—if she's bleeding—I won't forgive myself. I won't forgive anyone.

But I can't show that. Not now. I press a hand against my forehead, pacing the room, my heartbeat thunderous. "Fine," I manage, though my voice is tight, strained. "Leave it for now."

The call ends, but my thoughts spiral. Hayoung. Safe? Hurt? The idea of losing her burns worse than anything.

Author's POV

Rohan stood in the middle of his office, phone clenched tightly in his fist, his chest rising and falling like a storm had just hit him. All this time, his mind had been consumed with revenge, with erasing Nayoung for that one humiliating night—but Hayoung's name had shattered everything.

She was supposed to be untouched. Precious. His one desire, his one obsession. And now she was thrown into the line of fire because of him. The thought tormented him.

He didn't move, didn't dare step outside his office or make another order. The cruel smirk he wore minutes ago was gone. In its place, panic—panic for the only woman he secretly loved.

And for the first time, his plans faltered.

Author's POV

The car screeched into the hospital's emergency bay, panic gripping every heart inside it. Time seemed to slow—the honking of horns, the fluorescent lights above the entrance, the squeal of sneakers against the polished floor. Nayoung's blood stained Taehyung's shirt, her head resting weakly against his chest as her breaths grew shallow.

They burst through the sliding glass doors, voices rising in desperate shouts.

Taehyung's POV

"Doctor!! Somebody, please!!" My voice cracked, raw with terror. I clutched Nayoung tighter, feeling her warmth but also the stickiness of blood soaking through. My legs felt like jelly, yet I ran. I couldn't lose her. Not now, not ever.