Even in Darkness She Chose to Rise (Tatiana and Jasper) novel Chapter 162

**Even the Night Couldn’t Silence Her Light**
**Chapter 162: No Will to Live**

Jasper found himself in a state of utter despair, grappling with the harsh reality of his injuries. Both of his arms were practically useless, leaving him feeling vulnerable and helpless. The pain radiating from his broken ribs was a constant reminder of how close he had come to losing everything. Each breath felt like a struggle, as the fractures pressed against his organs, threatening to unleash a tide of internal bleeding that could very well claim his life.

Yet, despite the agony coursing through his body, one thought consumed him: he had to see Tatiana.

When he finally entered her hospital room, the sight that greeted him was haunting. Tatiana lay on the bed, her skin a ghostly shade of pale, her body still and lifeless. For a fleeting moment, he felt as if he were staring at a corpse, and an icy grip of dread clutched his heart.

Words escaped him, silenced by the heavy weight of sorrow that settled upon his shoulders. The shadows deepened in his expression, reflecting the turmoil within.

He had never anticipated that she would leap into the abyss so recklessly, her determination to escape life itself striking him like a thunderbolt. The moment she fell, his mind had gone blank, the comforting veil of self-deception ripped away, exposing the brutal truth he had been too afraid to acknowledge.

He cared for her. Deeply. More than he had ever consciously understood.

With a long, shuddering breath, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “When you wake up,” he promised, his tone soft yet resolute, “I won’t confine you again.”

Perhaps, just perhaps, their relationship could evolve into something more profound, something healthier.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered. “Jasper!!”

A thunderous roar echoed through the room, and before he could react, a fist connected with his face.

Chandler had arrived, fury radiating from him like an inferno. The punch landed solidly, sending Jasper staggering backward, but he quickly regained his footing. Chandler lunged again, his eyes wild with rage, but the bodyguards surrounding Jasper swiftly restrained him, preventing any further assault.

“You bastard! You scumbag!” Chandler spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re worse than an animal! How many times are you going to hurt her before you’re satisfied?”

Jasper remained quiet, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words.

“She barely survived! Her life has been a relentless struggle, filled with pain and heartache. Why can’t you just let her go? Do you want her dead?” Chandler’s voice cracked, desperation seeping through his anger.

Finally, Jasper found his voice, slow and deliberate. “I won’t let her die.”

The words only fueled Chandler’s fury. “You are the one who killed her!” he bellowed, the accusation echoing in the sterile room.

After a tense standoff, Chandler was forcibly pulled away, still shouting, his rage uncontainable.

Jasper stood frozen, his heart heavy, as he turned back to the unconscious Tatiana. “Was I wrong?” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Days slipped by like sand through an hourglass, and Tatiana remained in a deep coma, her body unresponsive. Jasper’s anxiety escalated with each passing hour. He summoned every renowned specialist he could find, yet the outcome remained unchanged.

She was alive, yes, but it felt as if she were lost to him, trapped in a state between life and death.

“Sir, the patient’s condition appears to be psychological,” one doctor finally stated, his tone clinical and detached.

“What does that mean?” Jasper asked, his voice strained, his disheveled appearance reflecting his inner turmoil.

“It means… the patient may have no will to live.”

The words struck him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless.

No will to live? The realization washed over him like a cold wave. She preferred the darkness of unconsciousness to the light of reality with him.

Jasper’s frustration boiled over, igniting a fierce determination within him. He would do anything to rouse her from this slumber, searching for any glimmer of hope or stimulation that might provoke a response.

His thoughts immediately turned to Jaime.

But when he dispatched men to locate her, they returned empty-handed. Jaime had vanished, and it had been several days since anyone had seen her.

A sense of foreboding washed over him. Was Tatiana’s desperate leap connected to Jaime’s disappearance?

He ordered the surveillance footage to be retrieved, and as he reviewed it, his heart sank. The recordings captured Tatiana’s erratic behavior leading up to her jump, and a maid had confirmed that Tatiana had been obsessively checking the time, muttering, “It’s too late.”

His mind raced as he acquired Tatiana’s phone, hoping to uncover some clue. Yet, it was devoid of anything unusual.

“Restore all deleted data,” he commanded, desperation lacing his tone.

“Yes, boss,” came the reply.

The results returned swiftly, and they were shocking.

As he scanned the threatening messages and the deleted video, darkness clouded his features, anger and dread intertwining within him.

“Find out who owns this number,” he ordered, his voice cold and steely.

But it led to a dead end. The number was registered to a deceased individual.