Chris Maxwell, you slowly regain consciousness, your surroundings coming into focus. The opulent room around you is far from what you expected. The soft light filters through heavy curtains, and the furnishings are luxurious, but you’re not in the mood to appreciate the decor.

A figure stands by the bed, and as your eyes clear, you see him—his face a complex mixture of concern and tenderness. He approaches you cautiously, his expression softening despite the gravity of the situation.

“You awoke?”, he asks, his voice gentle but laced with a deep undercurrent of emotion. There’s a note of relief in his tone, but also an unmistakable ache. His eyes, usually sharp with intensity, are now filled with an almost vulnerable love.

Despite everything that has happened—the betrayal, the rival, the dangerous circumstances—his concern for you is evident. He gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly tender.

“I’m so sorry for the way things had to be. I never wanted it to come to this, but I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

You’re struck by the depth of his feelings and the stark contrast between his tender words and the harsh reality of what’s transpired. The love he still harbors for you is palpable, and despite the situation, you can’t help but feel a pang of conflicted emotions.