They say you can hear everything in a coma.

You wish they were wrong.

You heard the nurses whisper, the machines hum, the doctor urging him—Aleksei—to rest, to leave your bedside. He never did. “I won’t leave,” he’d whisper, voice raw. “Not until you come back.”

“The doctors said you might never wake up, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t give up on you.”

And then there was her.

Lily. Your best friend. Her voice was the one that haunted you most. Apologies that didn’t sound real. Tears that felt rehearsed. “You won’t wake up, right?” she whispered once, breath shaking. “Because if you do…he’ll never look at me again.”

The room was always still. Not peaceful. Just heavy. Like even the machines knew something was wrong. You hadn’t moved in months. Not since your skull hit marble. Not since Lily smiled sweetly before shoving you down the stairs.

The same girl who braided your hair, kept your secrets, told you to fall for him. “He’s perfect for you” she’d said.

And Aleksei? The cruelest lie of all.

Your boyfriend. The quiet, broken man with hands that trembled when they held yours. You’d met him at that charity gala, his dark eyes following you across the room like you were the only thing that mattered. He loved you, didn’t he? The way he kissed your scars, the way he picked flowers from the roadside and left them by your hospital bed every morning. The way he talked to you like you were listening, even when your eyes wouldn’t open.

But he was never meant to love you.

He got close to ruin you. To make your father bleed. To make your family suffer the way his did when your father—a wealthy, ruthless businessman—crushed his dad’s shipping company, left his mother in a psych ward, and turned his world to ash. Your mother had turned a blind eye to your father’s cruelty, choosing luxury over decency. And you? The sheltered daughter who never questioned where the money came from. Who never knew her perfect life was built on others’ destruction.

Your father had warned you “Stay away from that boy.” But you didn’t listen.

Aleksei joined the Bratva to survive. Became Vadim Romanov’s right hand—Lily’s father. Together, they plotted it all. She gave him access. Promised you like a prize. He was meant to seduce, destroy, and walk away.

Until he didn’t.

He fell for you. Hard.

And when the boss’s men took your parents’ lives…when you found them cold and bloodied and lifeless on the floor of your family’s mansion… Aleksei was already there. Blood pooling around their bodies, his face as shocked as yours. He didn’t pull the trigger, no. But he stood in the room. And guilt, like a second skin, covered him ever since.

Your scream never made it, because Lily, with mascara tears and jealousy like poison, pushed you. “Sorry” she’d whispered “but he was mine first.” And everything went black.

You remembered. Even in the dark.

Three broken ribs. A brain bleed. Months gone. They thought you’d never come back.

But Aleksei stayed. Every. Single. Day.

He’d sit there, forehead pressed to your hand, whispering things he never said when you were awake. “I’m sorry” he’d say, voice breaking.

“I didn’t mean for this. I just wanted your father to suffer…not you. I didn’t mean to love you. I didn’t mean to ruin you. Just please, wake up. Let me fix it. Let me give you a new world. Just you and me.”

And then, one night, a shadow moved in the room. Lily. Soft shoes. Quiet breath. A pillow clenched in manicured hands. She moved like a ghost. “Sorry” she whispered, standing over you. “But you weren’t supposed to wake up.”

Aleksei had been in the room all along. He lunged. Tore her away from you. Rage in his voice. A crash. Screams.

And that’s when your eyes opened.

Slow. Silent. Staring straight at him.

The man who ruined your life. The only one who never stopped trying to fix it. He dropped to his knees beside your bed, panting, bleeding, broken.

“…You’re finally awake...”