NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 3: Take My Hand
A tall, handsome man stepped out of the gleaming glass door of the Hamilton five-star hotel, the doorman tipping his cap in silent respect.
He stood like a statue carved out of myth—tall, commanding and impossible to ignore.
His well-tailored, customised charcoal-grey suit hugged his broad shoulders, tapered neatly at the waist in effortless style.
His expression was cold and devoid of emotion as he spoke over the phone, his chauffeur already positioned at the rear door of his Maybach Exelero.
"Tell Dad I'll be there in ten minutes...." Ken was saying over the phone strolling gracefully towards his car.
Suddenly, a loud explosive thud, cracked through the air like gunshots, causing heads to jerk, people to flinch, and brakes to squeal.
The force of the impact sent Ken falling backwards on the cold concrete pavement, with shards of broken glass flying in every direction, grazing his smooth and radiant skin.
"Oh my god!" A lady screamed at the top of her voice, pointing at the lifeless body on the crushed car roof.
"It's a person."
"It's a woman."
"She's not moving"
"She is dead."
"Someone call the hospital emergency."
Different voices echoed in the background.
"Mr Silva, are you all right?" The chauffeur–who narrowly escaped being crushed by the impact–ignored his bleeding forehead as he ran to the young master's assistant, horrified by the young master's bleeding cheek.
"I'm fine." Ken stood up, frozen and hypnotised by the lifeless body of the pretty young woman sprawled across the crushed roof of his Maybach, twisted and broken.
Her ginger-red hair spilt across the crushed roof, like a fading flame, lifeless and still, catching the light with a ghost of its former fire.
It reminded him of the woman from his dreams–the one he had given his body and soul on the night he was drugged and set up.
'Could it be....'
Ken's lips trembled, the top left side of his cheek bleeding from a broken glass cut. He slowly moved towards his crushed car, the screaming cries of the crowd gathered fading into the background.
Tilting his head sideways, he stared at the bruised and bloodied face of an angel –her stillness more powerful than breath and her beauty, haunting even in death.
His heart was pounding wildly as he reached out for her battered, fragile body, pulling her ever so gently from the roof into his arms
Blood flowed from her broken head like a river of sorrow, warm and fresh.
"Oh god...her scent..." Ken's body trembled. He recognised that unforgettable natural scent of hers, now mingled with the metallic smell of her precious blood.
"No... This can't be... Please don't die." Ken's hands trembled as he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around her head to stop the bleeding.
"Mr Silva...." His personal assistant, Lawrence, came behind him. "Are you..."
"Get me a fast car, NOW." Ken boomed, holding the already dead beauty closely to his chest to keep her body warm.
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Three weeks later...
In the suffocating stillness of Hiraya's mind, voices drifted like smoke—disjointed, distant and layered with echoes that made them feel both near and impossibly far.
Strange voice curled around her–some soft and endearing, others sharp and antagonising– each one tugging at the edges of her fading consciousness.
She could hear the voices of people jeering, Damian calling, the lone voice of a woman pleading, her late mother's voice screaming, and an infant crying.
Then came darkness, pulsing around her like a living thing. It felt thick, suffocating and endless, pressing against her and pulling her under.
Hiraya fought with all her strength to rise, and reach for the speck of bright light at the surface. But every movement felt like swimming through tar—slow, heavy, and futile.
Suddenly, out of the darkness appeared a figure– a young woman. She shone like mist caught in moonlight—tall, ethereal, and impossibly still.
Her ginger red hair floated around her like embers suspended in water, soft waves glowing faintly against the pure white of her flowing gown.
Her fabric shimmered with every step she took, moving without weight, defying gravity.
On her right arm was a peacefully sleeping infant cradled affectionately to her chest, its radiant pinkish body a stark contrast to the mother's pale skin.
The woman's emerald green eyes–bright, mournful and unblinking—locked onto Hiraya.
"Take my hand." The woman said reaching out, her hand pale and cold.
Her touch wasn't warm. It was memory, grief, and the stubborn spark of life, reaching across the veil to pull her soul back.
Hiraya felt herself floating, her eyes widened with both fear and wonder.
The woman smiled, a single glistening tear fell from her eyes and touched the sleeping infant, causing him to stir a little.
"Take care of our child and love him for all eternity." The woman's voice echoed like the soft whispering of the wind as she placed the child into Hiraya's open arms before disappearing into the shadows.
As the infant tender body touched Hiraya's cold skin, he opened those gleaming golden ears and let out a piercing cry that shook Hiraya to the core.
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The silence in the intensive care unit was shattered with a sudden, piercing beep.
Monitors flared to life, flashing in rapid pulses as alarms blared in urgent rhythm.
In a heartbeat, the room flooded with movement, voices sharp and shoes squeaking against the tiled floor.
The doctor snapped to attention, voice hard and clipped.
"The patient is going into shock. Quickly, get the crash cart." He barked, already standing by her bedside.
"On it doc." A male nurse swung into action.
"Start the IV wide bore. I want fluids running in her system, immediately."
Another nurse was already at his side, hands shaking slightly but trained as she carried out the doctor's instructions.
"She's not responding doctor." The nurse slightly tapped the patient's wrist to palpate the vein.
The doctor frowned as the heart monitor flatlined, filling the slightly chaotic room with a chilling beep sound.
"She's crashing! Quickly, clear the airway and get me the defibrillator paddles, now." He barked, beads of cold sweat crowding his forehead.
A nurse wheeled the crash cart into place, opening the top drawer with a practised hand.
The doctor hurriedly grabbed the paddles, shouting over the rising noise.
"Charging to 200..."
As the machine began its shrill buildup the doctor smeared conductive gel across the paddles, the cold substance glistening under the lights.
"Clear!"
Everyone stepped back as the doctor pressed the paddles to Carmelita's chest.
Her body jolted violently, then fell limply.
"Come on, Carmelita..." One of the nurse's eyes was already moist with tears, as she recalled how this dead pregnant woman miraculously came back to life some weeks ago.
"Again—charge to 300...Let's go..." The doctor screamed above the commotion.
"Clear!"
The second jolt arced through her.
There was a silent pause as everyone held their breath.
A flicker and then a blip.
Slowly but steadily, the normal beep… beep… beep... motion returned.
The doctor exhaled, wiping his brow on his sleeve.
"Keep monitoring her vitals and don't let her slip again." He instructed the female nurse on duty.
"Yes, doctor." The nurse nodded, eyes lowered in guilt.
"Also, I want a regular and Doppler ultrasound scan on my table in the next hour." The doctor said, before exiting the room to contact Kendrick Silva.