But when I lifted my gaze through the haze of agony, all I saw was Nico scooping Massima into his arms, his dark eyes wild with panic as he scanned the crowd.
"Call an ambulance! Now!"
I had never seen him so frantic. I had never heard his voice carry such raw terror.
And it wasn't for me.
"Sir, please—this woman needs to go first."
The paramedic's voice cut through the chaos as they carefully lifted my half-conscious body onto a stretcher. Blood had soaked through my dress, pooling on the white sheets beneath me. The world swam in and out of focus.
"The next ambulance is on its way, but her injuries are critical. We need to move now."
But Nico blocked their path, his face contorted with fury, his tall frame an immovable wall.
"Save her!"
A violent shove. The stretcher tilted. I tumbled off and hit the marble floor again, the impact jolting me back to agonizing consciousness. Fresh pain lanced through my spine.
I watched, helpless and bleeding, as he gently—so gently—placed Massima onto the stretcher in my place. His hands cradled her like she was made of spun glass.
"Sir, she only has a sprained wrist—it's not serious!"
"You're misusing emergency resources! This woman is dying!"