Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Personal

Chapter 45: Personal

The flight back felt endless for Valerian. He sat rigid beside Noelle while his eyes remained locked on her pale face, watching each shallow rise and fall of her chest. The steady thrum of the helicopter blades above them did little to mask the faint, ragged sound of her breathing, wet from the blood filling her lung. Viktor worked quickly, securing bandages against the wound to slow the bleeding, injecting stabilizers into her system, but Valerian barely registered it. His mind was in a chaos.

Noelle was losing too much blood.

If they didn’t land soon…

“Босс, мы на месте.” (Boss, we’re here.)

The pilot’s voice cut through the headset, bringing Valerian back to the present. He tore his gaze away from Noelle just long enough to glance out the window.

The helicopter descended onto the rooftop helipad of the Russian mafia’s headquarters, its powerful rotors slicing through the cold morning air. The towering fortress of steel and glass loomed over the city, a symbol of dominance and unshakable power. This was no ordinary building–it was a nerve center of operations, where every floor served a purpose. Intelligence. Armories. Interrogation rooms. And, most crucially at this moment, a state–of–the–art underground medical wing designed for situations exactly like this.

The moment the aircraft touched down, a unit of black–clad medics and armed sentries was already in position. The security detail remained stationed at key points along the rooftop, their weapons raised, eyes scanning for any potential threat. But the true urgency lay at the center of the landing zone–a gurney, flanked by medical personnel, ready for immediate transport.

Before the rotor blades had even begun to slow, the helicopter doors were yanked open. Valerian wasted no time. He stepped out, his long, powerful strides unwavering despite the blood soaking through his sleeves. Noelle was still pressed tightly against him, unconscious and far too still, her breaths too faint for his liking.

A medic rushed forward, his gloved hands reaching toward her.

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“Положите еë на носилки, сзр.” His tone was authoritative yet careful, as if aware of who he was speaking to. ( Put her on the gurney, sir.)

Valerian’s grip on Noelle tightened for a fraction of a second, his body instinctively resisting the demand. But as much as every fiber of his being screamed at him to keep her in his arms, he knew that hesitation was not an option. With a controlled exhale, he finally forced himself to place her onto the waiting gurney.

The second she was out of his grasp, the medics swarmed around her, working with swift precision. Oxygen mask secured. IV inserted. Blood pressure monitored. The wheels beneath her moved in a smooth but urgent glide as they pushed her toward the underground medical wing.

Valerian didn’t hesitate to follow.

“Оxрана на каждом вжоде.” His voice was sharp, cold, carrying the weight of an order that was not to be questioned. (Guards at every entrance.)

The command sent his men into motion instantly. A group of heavily armed soldiers stationed themselves along the corridors, forming a barrier between the medical wing and the rest of the headquarters. No one, not a single soul would be getting in without his approval.

“Перекройте все этажи. Никаких посторонних. Любое подозрительное движение – докладывайте мне немедленно.” (Lock down all floors. No outsiders. Any suspicious movement–report to me immediately.)

Chapter 45: Personal

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His men moved without hesitation, their footsteps echoing through the halls as they took their positions. The entire building was now under a silent, suffocating lockdown. Nothing would enter. Nothing would leave.

Noelle would be safe.

And if anyone so much as breathed near this wing without his permission, he would personally put a bullet between their eyes.

Valerian’s gaze flicked toward Viktor, who was already issuing commands to the surgical team.

“Сколько времени потребуется?” His voice was steel. (How long will it take?)

Viktor barely glanced up as he continued his assessment. “Минимум три часа, если не будет осложнений.” ( At least three hours, if there are no complications.)

Three hours.

Valerian didn’t like it. He wanted a different answer. The best answer. One that didn’t leave her life hanging in the balance. But all he can do was give a curt nod, knowing he had no choice but to trust the man who had saved countless lives under his command.

He took a step back, his silver–grey eyes watching as they wheeled Noelle through the reinforced doors of the surgery room. The heavy steel shut behind them with a finality that made his fingers twitch at his sides.

She was in there.

And he was out here.

Helpless.

Valerian inhaled sharply, forcing the feeling down before it could consume him. He couldn’t afford to stand still.

“Свяжитесь с Иваном.” He turned to one of his men, his voice clipped. (Contact Ivan.)

The soldier immediately tapped into the comms, adjusting the frequency before speaking.

“Связь установлена. Он приближается, босс.” (Connection established. He’s en route, boss.)

Valerian’s jaw tightened.

“А блзкууд?” (And Blackwood?)

“Без сознания. Доставим через пятнадцать минут.” (Unconscious. We’ll arrive in fifteen minutes.)

Good.

The word echoed through his mind like a final sentence, sealing Adrian’s fate before he had even arrived.

Valerian’s gaze remained fixed on the steel doors of the medical wing, where Noelle was still fighting for her life. The scent of antiseptic mixed with the lingering copper of her blood on his gloves that reminded him of just how close he had come to losing her. His fingers curled slightly, resisting the violent urge to storm into that room and demand the impossible–to force the world to give her back to him, untouched, and unbroken.

But instead, the world had given him Adrian.

And Valerian would take him.

Slowly, he turned, and spoke again.

“Отведите его в подвал штаба.” (Take him to the basement of the headquarters.)

Chapter 45: Personal

Silence crackled through the comms for only a second before I can finally answered.

“Есть, босс.” (Yes, boss.)

Valerian rolled his shoulders back, adjusting his cuffs.

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It had been a long time since Valerian had entertained personal grievances. He had built an empire on ruthlessness. He had buried enemies without blinking, and had wiped out entire bloodlines without a second thought nor remorse. Revenge was a game for men who let emotions dictate their actions. And right now, he was that man.

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