Ella stared at him—this towering man, now kneeling like a broken child. His fingers dug into the hem of her coat, knuckles white, lips trembling.
Leon Xu, once untouchable, untamed, unrepentant… now clung to her like she was the only thing keeping him alive.
Nurses called out in shock, rushing toward them, but Leon didn't flinch.
He was shaking.
"Don't leave," he whispered again, almost inaudibly. "Please."
Something inside her cracked.
She didn't know if it was compassion or weakness, or just the ghost of a girl who once believed this man could love her right.
She should run.
He was still dangerous—even without memory, even with this fragile vulnerability.
But somehow, his desperation felt too real. Too raw.
And worse… familiar.
It was like trying to walk away from a wildfire that already lived under your skin. Every step away scorched her deeper, every breath without him burned colder.
She wasn't just haunted by what he did.
She was haunted by what they could've been—if only the timing, the wounds, the world had been different.
That night, the hospital cleared a private wing.
Leon refused anyone near him but her.
And the doctors?
Paid off.
Security guards posted at every door.
When she tried to leave again, she found the hallway locked.
Literally.
She turned, furious, only to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, gaze dark and unapologetic.
"I don't remember what made you run," he said calmly.
"But I'm not letting you go again."
Not now. Not ever.