CHAPTER 90
Laura
The plane landed in Kraków just after midnight, its wheels kissing the tarmac with the hush of a predator stalking its prey. Through the tinted window of the private jet, I watched the lights blur past in amber streaks. Poland in winter was a glass cathedral–silent, cold, gleaming.
Xavier didn’t speak the entire descent. He stood at the window with his back to me, hands clasped behind him, posture soldier–straight despite the fatigue that softened the edges of his frame. I wondered if he ever slept. Or if men like him simply wound tighter until they snapped.”
“Come,” he said as the door opened to the icy night.”
I followed him onto the tarmac, a gust slicing through my coat. Two black SUVs idled nearby. Dominic emerged from one, breath visible in the dark, and opened the back door for us. No words, just a slight incline of his head.
The hospital wasn’t a hospital–not in the fluorescent, antiseptic way I remembered. This one sat like a fortress on the edge of a frozen lake, white stone flanked by black wrought–iron gates. No signs. No logos. Just a perimeter of pine trees and cameras that tracked every movement.
Inside, the warmth hit like a wall. Quiet music pulsed from hidden speakers–something stringed and melancholy. The halls were lined with pale wood, clean enough to seem sterile but rich enough to feel intentional.
I hated how beautiful it all was. Nothing should be this serene when it was built for cutting.
Dr. Joanna Katarzyna was in her late forties, sharp–featured, eyes like polished obsidian. She greeted Xavier with a handshake that spoke of history–respect, but not submission. Then she turned to me.”
“You are the one with the fire,” she said in a softly accented voice, scanning my chart.}}
“Sorry?“}
“In your eyes,” she clarified. “Women with fire survive what should have ended them. I can work with that.”
They began the evaluations at once. Bloodwork. Neurological scans. Tissue compatibility analysis. I lay on slick sheets while machines beeped, injected, whispered in coded pulses. Xavier stood in the doorway, watching every procedure, arms folded.”
For someone who claimed he wasn’t holding me prisoner, he shadowed me like a sentinel. Or a ghost.
Joanna adjusted her glasses as she read the results. “You’re lucky. We have two donors who are compatible. One is a fresh trauma case- military. The other is elective euthanasia. Both limbs are viable. You’ll need to decide.“}
The words struck cold. Decide.}]
I sat up slowly. “You want me to pick someone’s leg?”
She nodded. “Only the surgeons will know the identity. But you have the right to choose, if you wish.”
I glanced at Xavier. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.
“What would you choose?” I asked him, hating how instinctively I deferred to his judgment.”
He considered a moment. “The soldier’s leg. Stronger. Faster recovery. But it’s your call, Laura.“}
For a heartbeat, I felt the strange gravity between us tighten. I turned back to the doctor. “Soldier. I don’t want pity legs.”
A flicker of approval crossed Anya’s face. “Surgery is in four days. We begin physical therapy immediately after.“)
Later that night, Xavier brought me to a room with floor–to–ceiling windows overlooking the frozen lake. The city lights bled gold into the horizon. He poured two fingers of whiskey into a cut–glass tumbler and handed it to me.”
“To new foundations,” he said.}
I didn’t raise mine. Just stared into the amber swirl. “You think a new leg will fix me?“#
“I think it’ll give you the power to decide what you become next.”
I drank–slow, burning. “And what if I use that power to run as far from you as possible?“}
He didn’t answer right away. Just watched me with that impossible stillness.
“Then at least I’ll know you ran on your own terms.”
I exhaled, tension sagging in my shoulders. “Why me, Xavier? Why drag me back from the edge? What do I matter to you?”
He sat on the low couch opposite me. Not looming. Not commanding. Just… there.M
“You mattered the day you risked your life to save a bleeding stranger with nothing to offer you but a dying name.“N
I set the tumbler down. “I don’t even remember doing that.”
“But I do,” he said softly. “Every damn second,”
The silence between us deepened–no longer hostile, not yet safe.}
Somewhere far below, I could hear the crunch of snow under boots–guards changing posts, or maybe the pulse of a world still moving even while I hovered between what I was and what I would become.
Xavier leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to love me, Laura. But I want you to live. And I want you whole.”
The words landed with a weight I hadn’t expected.
Whole #
I hadn’t even known I wanted that–until now.
212
45 179
1:04 PM
I hadn’t even known I wanted that–until now.
0
0
He rose and moved toward the door. At the threshold, he paused.
“I’ll be here after the surgery. Every step.”
“Watching?”
He smiled slightly. “Waiting.”
The door clicked shut behind him.§
I turned back to the window. Snow had begun to fall, feathering the dark lake in white. For the first time in a long, long while, I let myself imagine a future not forged in fear.
Four days.”
And then I’d stand again.”
Whether for Xavier–or despite him–I wasn’t sure.
But I would stand.”
1:04 PM.
