Rejected: A love story-Chapter 141: Danger

The ride to the hospital was quiet, very quiet. Dmitri would glance over at Viktoria every few seconds, watching as she stared blankly out the window at the passing cars and buildings. She hadn’t said much about anything since they left, she kept tracing imaginary patterns on the foggy window with her fingers as if lost in thought.

"You’re not mad at me, are you?" Dmitri asked, breaking the silence.

Viktoria turned her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "I don’t have the energy for getting mad," she said softly. "But I still think it’s all unnecessary."

"Well, I don’t," Dmitri said, his tone a little too sharp. "You passed out, Viktoria. Not normal."

She let out a sigh, resting her head on the window. "You’re overreacting."

Dmitri gripped the steering wheel tightly, not saying a word

When they arrived at the hospital, Dmitri parked the car and got out, and he helped Viktoria out beside him, his hand ready to catch her if she lost her balance. Viktoria rolled her eyes, but said nothing, letting Dmitri guide her into the hospital.

The waiting room had a faint smell of disinfectant, Dmitri checked her in at the reception, his answers short as he gave the necessary information. Viktoria said nothing, slumping down in a chair and wrapping her arms around her chest.

It wasn’t long before a nurse arrived to take them to an examination room. Viktoria sat on the edge of the table, swinging her legs slightly as the nurse checked her vitals. Dmitri was standing by her side, his arms crossed and his eyes glued to her.

"Blood pressure’s a little low," the nurse said, glancing at the monitor. "But nothing too alarming. The doctor will be in soon."

"See?" Viktoria said. "Nothing too alarming."

Dmitri did not answer, his eyes fixed on Viktoria without giving away anything.

The nurse got up and left, and the room was silent once again. Viktoria leaned back on the wall, her fingers tapping absently on the edge of the table. Dmitri remained in place, still with his arms crossed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I’m about to... you know—pass out."

There was a pause before Dmitri exhaled heavily and said, "Because you almost did, Vicky. You scared the hell out of me."

But before Viktoria could even think of saying anything in return, her body stiffened abruptly. Her eyes closed at once as she swayed forward. Luckily, Dmitri was immediately by her side as she collapsed.

"Viktoria!" he cried out, his tone laced with alarm and concern. "Hey, wake up! Hey, stay with me!"

Her head had fallen against his chest, and her breathing was light and shallow. Dmitri’s heart was racing as he placed her back on the examination table, his hands shaking as he tried to stabilize her

The door had burst open, and the nurse had rushed back inside, looking at Viktoria with alarm. "What’s going on?" she asked, going over to Viktoria.

"She just fell," Dmitri said, his tone filled with concern. "She was fine one minute, and then..."

"Alright, let’s get her on her back," the nurse said, her tone a little calmer. She had grabbed a blood pressure cuff and a small flashlight, and had quickly taken Viktoria’s vital signs. "Her BP is going down again. I’m calling the doctor."

Dmitri stood there, his fists clenched at his sides as the nurse worked. "Is she going to be okay?" Dmitri asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"She’s stable for now," the nurse said, glancing up at him. "But we need to get some fluids in her. It’s likely dehydration or fatigue, but the doctor will want to run some tests to make sure."

The nurse left the room to get what she needed, leaving Dmitri alone with Viktoria once again. Dmitri sat down in the chair beside the table, his head in his hands. His mind was racing, and his thoughts were jumbled.

The nurse returned with the IV bag and began to attach it to the pole. Dmitri assisted her, his hands still shaking slightly. Viktoria opened her eyes as the needle went in, and Dmitri could tell she was in pain.

"Dmitri?" she said, her voice weak.

"I’m here," Dmitri said, moving closer to her.

Viktoria’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Told you I hate hospitals," she whispered.

Dmitri let out a shaky laugh, his heart still beating heavily. "Yeah, well, I think they hate you too."

She chuckled softly, then closed her eyes again, her breathing evening out as she drifted back to sleep. Dmitri stayed by her side, his hand resting lightly on hers.

☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●

In a dark corner of the hospital’s staff wing, a man dressed in a white coat stood with his phone held tightly to his ear. His face was illuminated only by the flickering fluorescent light above him. He looked around cautiously, ensuring he was not being overheard before continuing his conversation.

"The serum is wearing off," the doctor stated, his voice steady but laced with anxiety. "She is showing signs of recovery."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the phone before the woman on the other end spoke, her tone icy. "What the hell are you talking about? I paid you to do your damn job, not call me with excuses."

The doctor winced, wiping the sweat from his temple. "Listen, I did my job. The serum was successful, but only in the way I expected. It was never meant to last. Memory suppression is a difficult process, and—"

He was interrupted by the woman, who had was already pissed off with whatever explanations he was giving.

"I don’t care about your explanations!" the woman interrupted, her voice rising. "I don’t pay you to feed me scientific garbage. I pay you to keep her from remembering anything. So why are you telling me this trash?"

The doctor sighed, lowering his voice even farther. "Because she’s showing signs of resistance. I suspect she hasn’t been taking the drugs consistently. Without the follow-up doses, the serum’s effects wear off more quickly."

There was a long silence, the kind that made the doctor’s stomach twist. When the woman finally spoke again, her voice was colder, more menacing. "I don’t care what the problem is. Do whatever you have to do. She can never...and I mean never—regain her memory. Do you understand me?"

The doctor hesitated, his fingers tightening around the phone. "There’s something you need to understand. Increasing the dosage could cause...complications."

"What kind of complications?" the woman demanded, her voice harsh.

"The serum wasn’t designed for repeated use at higher doses," the doctor explained carefully. "If I push it too far, it could cause permanent damage. Memory loss, yes, but it could also affect other parts of the brain. Motor functions, speech, cognition. It could render her... useless."

There was a pause, and then the woman laughed—a low, humorless sound that sent a chill down the doctor’s spine. "Do you think I care about that?" she said, her voice filled with all seriousness. "I don’t give a damn if she turns into a vegetable. As long as she doesn’t remember anything, it’s worth it."

The doctor swallowed hard, his throat dry. "You’re asking me to take a huge risk. If anyone finds out—"

"No one will find out," the woman snapped. "You’re a professional, aren’t you? Act like one. Do what you have to do, and keep your mouth shut."

The doctor exhaled shakily, glancing around the hallway again. "Fine," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you’ll need to double my payment. This is beyond what we agreed on."

"Done," the woman said without hesitation. "But if you screw this up, you’ll wish you’d never been born. Do you understand me?"

The doctor nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. "I understand."

"Good," she said curtly. "Keep me updated. And remember—she cannot remember. No matter the cost."

The line went dead, and the doctor lowered the phone, his hand trembling slightly. He stood there for a moment, staring at the floor as the weight of the conversation settled over him. Then he straightened, slipping the phone back into his pocket and adjusting his coat. His face hardened, and he turned, walking briskly down the hallway.

Whatever he had to do, he would do it. There was no turning back now.

"Good," she said curtly. "Keep me updated. And remember—she cannot remember. No matter the cost."

The line went dead, and the doctor lowered the phone, his hand trembling slightly. He stood there for a moment, staring at the floor as the weight of the conversation settled over him. Then he straightened, putting the phone back in his pocket and smoothing his coat. His expression had set hard, and he turned, walking briskly down the hallway.

Whatever he had to do, he would do it. There was no turning back now.