I Woke Up as My Fiancée Tried to Remove the Nurse Who Saved Me—Then a Little Boy Exposed the Matching Necklace She Was Hiding.

Dominic immediately sat up straighter, the authority returning to his posture despite the bandaged wound along his side. "Speak."

Marco glanced at Grace, hesitating.

"She stays," Dominic commanded without looking away. "Tell me."

Marco stepped forward, holding a sleek black tablet. "One of our offshore bank monitoring alerts triggered twenty minutes ago. A wire transfer of five million dollars was initiated from the Bellini family logistics account to a private security firm based out of Miami. Specifically, an outfit known for wet work."

Grace’s breath caught. "Five million? For what?"

"For a cleanup crew," Marco said grimly. "Vanessa isn't sitting quietly in the penthouse. She managed to use an encrypted satellite relay hidden in her dressing room vanity. My men found the terminal, but the order had already gone out."

"Target?" Dominic asked, his voice deadly calm.

"Two targets," Marco replied, looking straight at Dominic, then shifting his gaze to Grace. "The boy. And Nurse Bennett."

The room seemed to shrink. Grace felt her heart slam against her ribs like a trapped bird. She had spent her career in emergency rooms, treating gunshot victims and stitching stab wounds, but the violence had always arrived from the outside world. It had never had a name. It had never had her face on it.

Dominic didn't raise his voice. He didn't swear. But the cold fury that emanated from him made the hair on the back of Grace’s neck stand up.

"Where is the crew now?" Dominic asked.

"Local contacts report four operatives touched down at Midway forty minutes ago," Marco said. "They won't hit the hospital front doors. St. Jude has two dozen of our men downstairs. But the hospital’s southern wing undergoes maintenance at two in the morning. The freight elevators bypass security on the fifth floor."

"They're coming here," Grace whispered, looking across the room at little Leo, who was still sound asleep, clutching his broken cross.

Dominic swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed.

"Dominic, no," Grace immediately stepped forward, placing both hands on his muscular shoulders to push him back. "You have cracked ribs and internal suturing. If you tear those stitches, you will bleed internally before we can get you back to the OR!"

Dominic’s large hand closed gently over her wrist, not with force, but with a firmness that left no room for argument.

"Grace," he murmured, his face inches from hers. "If I stay in this bed, those men will walk through that door and kill you and that boy. I don't bleed out when my family is threatened. I move."

He stood up.

He was over six feet tall, towering over Grace, his broad-shouldered silhouette radiating pure power. He winced slightly as his feet hit the floor, his jaw clenching as he bore the pain, but within three seconds his posture was completely straight. He pulled a black tailored shirt from the closet in the corner, slipping it over his bandaged chest with methodical precision.

"Marco," Dominic ordered, buttoning his cuffs. "Prep the armored SUV in the basement ambulance bay. I want the freight elevators locked from the master breaker. Cut the cameras on the north corridor."

"Understood," Marco nodded. "What about Vanessa?"

Dominic looked toward the window, where the city rain continued to fall. "Vanessa wants a war. I’m going to give her a funeral for her ambitions. But first, we get Grace and Leo to the safehouse."

"Dominic," Grace said, her voice shaking slightly despite her best efforts. "I can't just run with you. The police—"

"The police are on the Bellini payroll in three different precincts, Grace," Dominic said, turning to face her. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across her rosy cheek, a gesture so tender it completely contrasted with the violence brewing around them. "Out there, you are a witness. With me, you are protected. Do you trust me?"

Grace looked into his piercing, dark eyes. There was no hesitation in them. No cruelty directed at her. Only a fierce, ancient instinct to defend what he had decided was his.

"I trust you," she whispered.

Dominic turned toward the couch. "Leo. Wake up, buddy."

The little boy stirred, his gray-blue eyes blinking against the dim light. He sat up, immediately looking around for Grace.

Grace moved to his side, lifting him into her arms. He was surprisingly light, wrapping his small arms around her neck and burying his face in her shoulder. His little hand held the silver chain against Grace’s collar.

Suddenly, the lights in the suite flickered.