A sudden scream echoed down the hospital corridor, sharp and piercing, drawing the attention of nurses, patients, and visitors alike. Heads turned, eyes wide with concern and curiosity.
At the center of the commotion stood Leyla, one hand resting gently on her lower stomach, her lips parted in disbelief. But what spread across her face wasn't fear or pain—it was joy. A rare, soft smile graced her features, lit from within by the kind of relief that could only come from hope reignited.
She had just come out of the examination room. The doctor had told her the impossible. Despite what she had believed for years, despite what the doctors in her past life had concluded after the violent abuse she had endured from her so-called family, her womb was healthy. She could still have children.
It hadn't been nature or chance that robbed her of the ability. It had been them—those monsters who had beaten her until her body broke, who had stolen not just her dignity but her future.
She wanted to march up to them and rip out every strand of their hair with her bare hands. To scream at them, curse them, and hurt them like they hurt her.
But she didn't.
Not yet.
Because this wasn't the future she had once lived. This was the past. A second chance.
She would wait. She would endure. And when the moment was right, they would pay.
"Leyla!" Mina appeared at her side, panting lightly, her eyes searching Leyla's expression. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost. Or had a moment of divine revelation. Wait, don't tell me… You checked yourself out because of Liam?"
Leyla's glare was sharp enough to cut stone.
Mina stepped back instantly. "Right! Right, never mind. You don't like him anymore. Totally forgot. My bad. Carry on."
Leyla exhaled slowly, her smile returning, this time softer. She turned away from the examination rooms and began walking down the corridor with Mina.
"I'm going to visit my niece," Mina chirped. "She twisted her ankle being the overly dramatic cheerleader that she is. I plan to tease her endlessly. I'll be back soon!"
Before Leyla could respond, Mina was already skipping off.
Alone again, Leyla found a nearby bench and sat down. The hall had quieted. Nurses resumed their duties. Visitors walked past. The hospital returned to its usual rhythm. She took a moment to bask in the knowledge that she still had a future—a real future.
That was when a tall man walked past her.
She noticed him instantly. He was sharply dressed in a well-fitted navy blue suit that complimented his dark tanned skin and matched his long navy blue hair, which was tied back neatly. Glasses framed his face. He looked like he belonged more in a boardroom than a hospital.
He approached the front desk, his voice low and polite. "Excuse me. I'm here for an update."
The nurse at the counter nodded. "He's still being monitored. The injury is serious. We don't know when he'll be discharged yet."
Leyla tilted her head slightly. Something about the man was familiar. She couldn't see his face clearly from where she sat. She stood up, curiosity pulling her closer.
But before she could reach him, a pair of arms wrapped around hers.
"Leyla!" Mina called cheerfully. "My niece is furious. I made her drop her phone in juice, and now she says I'm not welcome anymore. Let's get out of here. I'm starving."
Leyla glanced once more at the man—his back still turned, his posture calm and focused—but allowed herself to be pulled away.
The man—Tyler—watched them leave with a sigh.
"Must be nice to have a simple life," he muttered before returning his attention to the nurse.
After receiving a similar vague response about the patient's condition, he thanked them and left the counter. Just as he walked away, his phone rang.
He picked it up. "Yes? No, postpone the meeting to next week. Mr. Finn won't be available for a while."
He ended the call and reached for the door to the patient's room.
It was empty.
"Damn it."
He turned and sprinted out of the hospital.
Tyler burst into the bar, breath heavy, eyes scanning the dim lighting and booths lining the walls. Music thrummed faintly in the background. He walked past the bar counter and began checking each room.
One room had a group of women singing karaoke, one of them waving him over. "Hey, cutie! Come join us!"
Tyler gave them a tight, apologetic smile. "Maybe next time."
He moved on.
Just as he was about to check the next room, a loud crash echoed at the end of the hall. The door burst open, and a man was flung out violently, landing on the floor with a painful grunt. He was bruised, nose bloodied, and shirt torn. Two others emerged behind him, equally battered.
"You idiot! I told you not to go in first!" one yelled, dragging the fallen man to his feet.
"He didn't even flinch when I threw the chair! What is he, a beast?!"
"Just shut up and run!"
They limped out of the hallway in a hurry.
Tyler exhaled through his nose and walked toward the wrecked room.
Inside, glass shards and overturned furniture littered the floor. A table had been split down the middle. Chairs lay in twisted heaps. And at the center, sitting calmly with a half-empty glass of wine in hand, was Ryker Finn.
His tie was missing. His sleeves were rolled up. His expression was unreadable.
Tyler stormed over and snatched the glass away. "What the hell do you think you're doing? The doctor said, No alcohol."
Ryker raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"And leaving the hospital without telling me? Are you trying to kill yourself?"
Ryker ignored him and reached for the wine bottle. He downed the rest of it in one go, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and finally spoke.
"Hospitals make me vulnerable. Every second I spend in there is a second my enemies could be making moves."
He pointed toward the door with a casual flick of his fingers. "I had a hunch. I came to check. And clearly, I was right."
Tyler let out a sharp breath. He didn't argue. He knew better.
He stepped closer and pulled open Ryker's shirt slightly to check the bandages underneath. A red stain—wine or blood—had seeped through.
"You're insane," Tyler muttered. "We need to get you out of here."
Ryker groaned slightly as Tyler helped him stand, his hand clutching his side.
Later, Tyler gently closed the back door of his car after guiding Ryker inside.
"Why can't you make my job easier?" He grumbled, moving to the driver's seat.
At that exact moment, not far from the bar, Leyla stood by the street, phone pressed to her ear.
Her mother's voice came through. "Sweetheart? Are you okay? If you want, you can come stay with us."
Leyla smiled softly. "Not yet. There's still something I need to do here. Once I finish, I'll consider it."
As she ended the call and began walking, a sleek black car drove past.
Through the tinted window, Ryker glanced out—his gaze locking, for a fleeting moment, with Leyla's.
They didn't know each other.
Not yet.
But something passed between them.
A glance.
A spark.
Fate turning its wheels.