Lingering Obsession

Elara POV

I shouldn't have been on the road that late.

My shift at the hospital that had led to two complete weeks of half eyed sleep, back to back surgeries, coffee that had began to taste like medicine. The only thing my mind could picture was the comfort of my tiny home, the warmth of a shower, and the weight of sleep pulling me under.

But then I saw him.

An unconscious figure lying by the side of the road.

I quickly made a slam on my car brakes, making my tire screech to a halt. I felt my heart beat so loud that it felt like it would pop out.

I held to my steering in hesitation as I had heard stories in the city of people who stopped on the road for a stranger who was in need of help and it ended up to be a set up, and i wasn't willing to risk my own safety either.

But something about this... felt off.

I stepped out of my car to take a look on who it was. The night air was damp with the lingering scent of rain, and as I got to where he was, a sharp, metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils.

"Oh my God."

The man was half conscious, his suit had already soaked in blood, his white shirt totally red, a deep wound slashed across his chest very close to where his heart laid. I quickly dropped to my knees beside him, adrenaline surging through my veins.

"Hey! Can you hear me?" I shook his shoulder gently, but there was no response only slow whimpers.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly ran back to my car and turned on my hazard lights, grabbed the first aid kit from my glove compartment, and stepped out of the car running to where he laid.

Panic threatened to take hold, but I pushed it down. Years of working double shifts at the hospital as a surgeon had taught me to stay calm under pressure.

I yanked open the first aid kit, my hands moving on instinct. Applying pressure to the wound, I watched as blood seeped through my fingers. He was losing too much.

"You need to hold on," I murmured, my voice shaking. "Help is coming."

I was still applying pressure to his wound with one hand, then I used to other to fumble for my phone as I dialed emergency services.

"There's a man-he's been stabbed. He's unconscious and bleeding out on the side of the road near Westgate Avenue. I need an ambulance now."

"Ma'am, can you stay with the victim until paramedics arrive?" the dispatcher asked.

I hesitated. I knew how this worked. The police would come next. They'd ask questions.

Too many questions. And I had no answers.

I had no idea on who this man was, why he was attacked terribly like this, or if the people who had planned this were still around somehow.

"I-I have to go," I urged, glancing down at the now unconscious figure laying helplessly..

"Ma'am, please you need to-"

I ended the call, putting my phone back into my pocket as I quickly arranged my kit back to my box.

Not long after, the faint sound of sirens became louder, cutting through the eerie silence of the night. I took one last look at his pale face, his breathing patterns was not steady but shallow. He was alive-for now.

"I'm sorry to leave you like this, sir," I mumured to his ears, as i rose to my feet. The loud sound of the sirens had enveloped my voice making it barely audible.

"But I can assure that you're going to be okay." I stood still for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. "I don't know how to stay to give a statement for an incident I'm not quite aware of." It sounded like a weak excuse, even to my own ears.

Taking one final glance at the approaching red and blue lights, I crossed over and climbed my car. I knew I had to quickly make my way out of here before the police and ambulance arrive to the scene. I started my engine and drove away from the scene, leaving the stranger all to himself. As I drove off, I was still able to catch a glimpse of the figure in the rearview mirror. He was still lying there, unable to move, as the ambulance cars made a stop around him.

I was already approaching my apartment still trying to clear the scenario from my mind. What had just happened? Who was the helpless man, and why was he almost dead in the middle of the road?

The ambulance sirens had faded into the distance as I was already far away from the scene. And somehow I felt relieved that he was finally going to be okay.

______.

St. Michael Hospital

The ambulance made a sudden stop outside the emergency entrance of St. Michael Hospital, tires screeching louder than they probably needed to. Doors slammed open. Paramedics were shouting - not panicked, but fast, focused. The guy on the stretcher didn't move. Didn't make a sound.

Inside, the ER lit up like a flipped switch as Nurses rushed in to attend to him.

"Doesn't he have an identity?" a nurse called out, already digging through the man's jacket.

"Nothing on him," one of the paramedics replied. "No ID. No phone. Just... nothing."

The doctor leaned in, his brow furrowing. "Get his fingerprints to run some tests. Now."

"Darlington Cross," the doctor muttered, barely above a whisper. Then louder: "We need to move. Now."

In seconds, the quiet chaos exploded again. They wheeled him off toward surgery like the floor was on fire. Doors slammed. Shouts echoed. Someone dropped a clipboard.

-

Back at my apartment

On the other side of the city, I stepped into the shower and just... stood there. Let the hot water run over my face until my skin started to burn a little. My hands were shaking.

I wasn't sure why. I didn't know the guy. He was just a stranger bleeding out on a sidewalk. I called for help. Stayed with him. That's it.

But it didn't feel like just that. Not tonight.

I got out eventually, toweling off slowly, my limbs heavier than usual. Slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling for a while. Too many thoughts, none of them useful. Somewhere between one breath and the next, I found my falling asleep.

----

Morning came too fast.

I sat at my kitchen table, as I curled my fingers around my tiny mug, stirring my coffee absentmindedly. The TV on my wall mumured in the background.

___

"...mystery woman saved billionaire Darlington Cross's life after he was attacked last night near Westgate Avenue. Witnesses say an unidentified woman performed emergency aid before disappearing just as paramedics arrived. "

The metal spoon fell off from my fingers, hitting against the ceramic mug.

Darlington Cross.

I had saved Darlington Cross.

The man on the news-one of the most powerful men in the country, a billionaire whose name graced the covers of business magazines and gossip columns alike. The one with steel in his jaw and ice in his smile?

The anchor continued, "Darlington Cross, CEO of Cross Industries, is presumed to be in stable condition and has made a statement saying he is eager to find the woman who saved him..."

I barely knew anything about him.

I immediately felt cold. I wasn't sure why, but something about that unsettled me.

Because men like Darlington Cross always got what they wanted.

And right now, he was wanted me.

Darlington POV:

Pain was a familiar enemy, but this time, it came with an infuriating mystery that I thought I could handle. I've fought through it before, turned it into fuel. But this? This is different. This pain is a reminder-it settled in my chest, in my head, scratching at my sanity like a damn parasite. That someone saved me. A woman, and I had no clue on who she is.

I sat as I rested my almost healed back in the stiff-ass hospital bed, My fingers tapped restlessly on the sheets like they could make the answers appear out of nowhere. I could still feel my body aching like hell, the deep stab wound in my abdomen a brutal reminder of how close I had come to death. I shouldn't have been here. The doctors had already explained to me that if my female savior hadn't applied pressure to my wound before they had arrived, I wouldn't have made it. And that someone haunted me.

The wound was too deep, the blood loss too severe. But someone had stopped the bleeding. Someone had given me a second chance.

A woman. A stranger. And I can't rest until I find her.

----

"The frustration is suffocating" I groaned. Three days have passed since I had been out of the hospital now, and I have nothing.

I stare at the ceiling of my penthouse, the dim city lights barely cutting through the darkened room. I didn't know her name, didn't know what she looked like. The only things I could still remembered were a faint trace of lavender and vanilla a scent that doesn't belong in my world of smoke and whiskey.

Sleep is almost impossible. Everytime I close my eyes, I hear her voice. The distant echo of a soft, urgent voice urging me to hold on. Everything else was lost in the haze of unconsciousness.

I pace my office, the floor-to-ceiling windows casting long shadows as the city sprawls beneath me. My team has combed through security footage, but the area where I was attacked had no cameras. Witnesses were useless. All they saw was a woman bending over me before disappearing into the night.

No name. No face. Just a phantom.

I saw my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edge of my desk firmly. I had built my empire on control, on knowing every thing of the world around me. Yet this woman-this stranger-has managed to slip through my grasp. And it's driving me insane.

I've tried to focus on business, on the meetings and deals waiting for my approval, but my mind refuses to let go. I should be dead, and she is the reason I'm not. That isn't something I can ignore.

I won't ignore it.

I pour myself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light as I swirl it in the glass. The whiskey burns as it slides down my throat, but it does nothing to drown the thoughts clawing at my mind. Who is she? Why did she leave?

Every night since the attack, I woke to fragmented memories of soft hands pressing against his wound, urgent whispers urging me to hold on.

Last night left me more desperate than before.

I had a dream of when....

I was back in a dimly lit room, cold ground beneath me, the smell of antiseptic and blood smelling heavily in the air. A woman's soft hands was applied pressure to my wounds, her urgent whispers telling me to hold on. But her face was shrouded in shadows, making it impossible for me to tell who it was.

A man's menacing voice echoed in my mind just when I thought I was safe from harm. It was him - the bastard who stabbed me. He was standing right beside the woman, his eyes gleaming with malice. And suddenly it felts like they were working together, I could see their blurry faces twisted in cruel smiles.

The woman's hands suddenly felt like ice against my ached skin, and I tried to push her away. But she held firm, she wouldn't let go. The man's laughter grew louder, and she pulled me into the darkness.

I jolted awake gasping for air, soaked in sweat, my heart racing, and the soft scent of lavender lingering in my mind like a taunt.

I needed answers.

Who the hell is this woman? Why did she save me only to haunt me in my dreams like this ?

My phone immediately rings, cutting through my thoughts. I snatch it up before the second ring. "Tell me you have something."

A pause followed both our ends."We might have a lead."

I straighten. "Go on."

"A witness says they saw a woman in scrubs near the scene that night. Could mean nothing-could be a nurse getting off shift-but it's the first solid thing we've got."

Scrubs.

My mind began twirling again I think we finally got a lead that changes everything. If she was a nurse, that meant she works at a hospital, a clinic, -somewhere traceable.

Finally, a thread to pull.

I curved my lips into a slow, determined smirk. I'm closer than I was yesterday. Closer than I was an hour ago.

I was closer to finding her. And when I find her, I won't let her slip away again. She is my angel-in-disguise.

-----

Elara POV

I got lost in thought as I sipped my morning coffee, my gaze was drifted out of the cafe window. It has been months after that accident and the memory of the man I saved still lingers in my mind like ghost. I couldn't get rid of the feeling of his warm skin beneath my hands, the urgency in his eyes as he fought to stay alive.

As warm as the cafe was I was still feeling cold. Why couldn't I get him out of my head? I had saved countless lives as a doctor, but there was something about this man that haunted me.

Is not that I saw his face but the thought that he was Darlington Cross sent chills down my spine.

I finished my coffee, grabbed my bag, and headed to the hospital. The crisp morning air did little to clear my head.

I.. I felt like I was drowning in my own thoughts, especially the fact I singled handedly helped a dying soul on a lonely street and still escaped being interrogated was really out blowing.

As I scrubbed in for my first surgery, my mind kept wandering back to him. Of all places to kill Darlington cross it was on a lonely road? Who wanted him dead? Couldn't he just let go of who saved him and be happy he's still alive?

The day was going by and I had series of patients to attend to. I had a huge schedule of surgeries and consultations, and I couldn't afford to be distracted. But every time I tried to concentrate, the thought of him popped into my mind.

I felt like I was living in two worlds - the one where I saved a stranger's life and I was being searched for in the country who i saved, and the one where I was just another doctor trying to make a difference.

As I finished my last surgery of the day, trying to change out of my scrubs, Dr. Lee approached me with a concerned expression. "Elara, have you heard the latest on our charming Darlington cross case?"

I kept mute, unsure how much I wanted to know. "No, what's the new update?"

"I just heard on the news from Darlington Cross crew that they've found a lead," Dr. Lee pointed out, lowering her voice. "Apparently, a witness testifies to have seen a woman in a nurse's uniform fleeing the scene."

My heart skipped a beat as I felt a chill run down my spine. I forced a normal expression, trying not to express my shocked state. "That's interesting. I hope he can finally see his angel in disguise we keep hearing about."

Dr. Lee nodded in agreement. "Me too. It's been months already it's high time we know who she is. Come to think It's interesting that a lady is strong enough and capable of saving someone and ran away without wanting to identify herself."

I nodded, as I started feeling uncomfortable. I couldn't hide the feeling that my two worlds were about to collide in ways I couldn't even imagine. And I had no one to turn to, no one to confide in except Rachel my best friend, who was miles away.

Elara POV

There are nights that feel like dreams-soft, misty, the kind you forget the moment you wake.

But that night wasn't a dream.

That night etched itself into me, like something carved with a dull, shaking blade.

I didn't remember it all at once. That's the thing about fear you held in for too long, it doesn't just arrive in clear frames. It leaks in slowly, one cold shiver at a time. A scent. A sound. A slip of a memory behind closed eyelids.

Tonight, though-tonight it came flooding back in a way I couldn't stop.

The hospital was quiet after my last shift, unusually so. I had stayed behind longer than I should have, finishing reports and prepping files. I thought keeping busy would silence the storm in my chest. It didn't.

The moment I stepped out into the parking lot, the silence hit me differently. It wasn't peaceful. It was loud. A heavy, crushing kind of quiet that presses on your ears and makes your instincts twitch. I hesitated next to my car, the weight of exhaustion pulling at me-but something in the air shifted.

I stood there, keys in hand, heart tapping against my ribs like it wanted out.

And then-just like that-I remembered.

I remembered the streetlight flickering overhead as I pressed down on his wound. I remembered how sticky his blood was, how warm his skin felt beneath my trembling palms. I remembered how his breath rattled like broken glass and how I had whispered, over and over, "Stay with me, stay with me, you're going to be okay."

But most of all, I remembered the voice.

I never told anyone this part-not even Rachel. That night, I had heard my father's voice.

A voice I hadn't heard in nearly fifteen years.

"The body isn't there."

It hadn't come from inside my head. It had been real. Close. Just as I was trying to keep the bleeding man alive, just as I was trying to be a doctor and not a terrified daughter, I heard my father's voice on the wind-cool, sharp, and laced with disgust.

And he wasn't alone.

There was another man with him, his voice low and unfamiliar. They were arguing, just out of sight, but close enough that I felt their presence crawling along my skin.

I remember glancing up, startled, just in time to see two shadows cross the street. My father-yes, I know it was him-stood with his back straight, wearing that same arrogant stillness I remembered as a child. The other man was bulkier, dressed in all black. They didn't see me. Or if they did, they didn't care.

They were talking in clipped, coded phrases.

"No, someone had interfered."

"He wasn't supposed to make it."

"Clean up quietly. No names."

I froze.

The man lying on the ground-Darlington Cross-I hadn't known who he was then. Not really. I just knew he was bleeding too fast, and dying even faster. That's all that mattered to me in the moment. But the way they talked about him...

They weren't here to check who it was. They were here to make sure he didn't survive.

That realization hit me like a slap to the face.

I remember crawling back slowly behind my car, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold onto the gauze I'd been pressing to his side. I peered over the edge, trying to keep breathing, trying not to sob out loud. God, I was so scared. My medical bag had fallen to the pavement, and my phone was in the front seat, just out of reach.

And then came the SUV.

Big. Black. Moving too quietly for a street like ours. It crept toward the scene with its lights off, the tires making barely a sound. My heart sank. My instincts screamed. Run, hide, don't move.

Two more men got out-clean-cut, expressionless, dressed in the kind of crisp suits that only scream danger when they're worn at night.

I could hear one of them mutter, "He's still alive? The boss won't like this."

And I couldn't breathe.

I held my breath as they walked toward Darlington's body-still unconscious, barely holding on. My palms were wet with his blood. I remember staring down at them, whispering silent apologies that I wasn't strong enough to save him. I thought they were going to finish him off right there in the middle of the street.

But then...

Something changed.

One of the men noticed the blood trail I left when I dragged him behind a trash bin. They followed it, step by step, getting closer to where I had hidden him.

I remember biting my lip so hard it bled, my entire body frozen in place.

Then, without warning, one of the suits turned and barked, "No sign of the woman. Pull back."

They left.

Just like that, my dad and the man turned around, got in the SUV, and disappeared into the night like ghosts.

I didn't move for a full minute.

And then I crawled out, shaking, practically choking on my own breath. I didn't think. I just ran. Grabbed my phone, called 911, and gave an anonymous tip. I used a disposable glove to wipe the handle of my medical bag. I threw my blood-stained coat in a dumpster two blocks away.

I went home as soon as I heard the paramedics arriving in a distance and got to my apartment and scrubbed my skin until it was raw.

And I buried the memory.

Until tonight.

The memory clawed its way back like it had been waiting in the dark all this time. I leaned against my car now, my keys clenched so tightly in my fist they left imprints in my skin. My breath came short and fast. My legs trembled.

Why was my father there that night?

Why were they after Darlington?

And why.. why did it still feel like someone was watching me?

I scanned the area in the parking lot again, half-expecting that same black SUV to pull up with its lights off, rolling silently toward me like death on wheels.

But there was nothing.

Just me and my pounding heart.

I got into my car, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring me to this world.

And suddenly I knew-deep in my chest, deep in the bones of who I am-that this wasn't over.

Darlington Cross was supposed to die that night

And I wasn't supposed to remember any of it.

But I did.

And no matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise...

I was in the middle of something far bigger than I ever imagined.

I leaned back in my seat and let the tears fall silently.

Because the truth I'd been trying to deny had finally caught up to me.

And if they ever found out I was the one who got in their way...

I wouldn't get a second chance.