Page 8 of Final Vendetta

“She’s alive. She’s fine.”

I nodded numbly, unable to find the words. The weight of my actions bore down on me with a crushing force. I did this to her. Imogene was here because of me. Because of my obsession with revenge.

I’d never forgive myself for this.

“We’re going to the hotel now that she’s stable,” Julia said after a beat. “The doctors have assured us she’ll be in good hands. I also gave them permission to discuss her treatment with you until she wakes up in case any decisions need to be made.” She looked at me, her eyes warm and kind. “But you should get some rest, too.”

“I’ll rest when she’s awake,” I ground out, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“It might be a while.”

“I’m not leaving her. Never again.”

With an understanding smile, she nodded. Lachlan placed a hand on my shoulder as he passed in silent reassurance before following Julia into the hallway.

“You’ll keep me posted?” Melanie asked, and I shifted my gaze toward her as she approached.

“Of course.”

“Thanks,” she responded around a yawn.

“How are you getting home?”

“My car.”

I shook my head and reached inside my suit jacket for my phone. “Henry will take you.”

“I’ll be fine. I?—”

When I narrowed my stare on her, she snapped her mouth shut, obviously aware it was a lost cause. After what happened to Imogene, I didn’t want to risk Melanie getting behind the wheel in her exhausted state.

“Thank you,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me.

I pulled her close, leaving a soft kiss on her head. “Be safe.”

“Always.”

Then she turned from me and disappeared down the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.

Pushing out a long sigh, I returned my attention to Imogene, erasing the distance between me and her bed.

As I lowered myself into the chair, I gently took her hand in mine, worried the slightest pressure might break her. Her skin was cool and smooth beneath my thumb, fragile in a way I’d never known her to be. She’d always been strong, resilient, never bending no matter how much the world tried to crush her.

But now?

Now she was here, bruised and battered, her breaths shallow but steady, reminding me what I’d almost lost.

Reminding me of the role I played in putting her here.

“I’m so sorry, Imogene.” My voice cracked with emotion as I pressed a tender kiss to her hand. “I should have known something like this could happen. I just never…” I trailed off, a hollow ache settling in my chest.

I’d spent the past year obsessed with revenge, trying to find closure in destruction. And for what? To risk Imogene’s life? Was it really worth it? Had iteverbeen worth it?

“No more,” I declared with nothing short of determination.

I let my statement hang in the silence, the words a pledge. A commitment binding me to something bigger than revenge. Bigger than my anger. Bigger than my hatred.

I’d give Imogene the future she deserved, even if it meant walking away from the only thing that kept me alive in that hellish prison.

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