Alexandros froze.
No!
More static. A garbled response.
In the background, he could hear sirens blaring, steadily growing louder.
Suddenly, more gunfire erupted. The whump of boots and shouted commands.
The audio feed cut out. Then, the body cam went dead.
The quiet in the room was deafening.
The world tilted.
Alexandros pressed his palms to the table to keep from collapsing. Nausea churned in his stomach. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this-this feeling. This excruciating pain.
The door opened behind him.
He turned, feeling shattered.
His father stood there.
The Kallistratos patriarch. Ramrod straight. Silver at his temples. Power emanated from him like Zeus ready to strike.
“I heard,” Christos said, his voice like gravel. “They’re taking her to the hospital.”
Alexandros couldn’t speak. He could only nod.
Christos’s gaze softened—just a breath. Just enough.
“Come,” he said. “We go now. Theo will meet us there.”
Alexandros moved.
No hesitation.
He would be at Dani’s side when she opened her eyes.
And nothing—not her trauma, not his guilt, not even the demons he would carry forever—would take her from him again.
Not until I know she’s safe,he thought grimly.
Dani sucked in a terrified breath. Her eyes met Zayan’s, and in that instant, Zayan knew—she was free. As he reached for her, Dani, fueled by adrenaline and fear, surged upward with a desperate lunge.
The shard of glass she’d hidden under her skirt flashed in her hand as she drove it into his side.
His roar of pain and rage was deafening.
He stumbled, then collapsed on top of her, knocking the breath from her lungs. His weight pressed her into the mattress, his hands scrabbling for control. Her muscles burned as they struggled. She thrashed beneath him, clawing, twisting, fighting with every ounce of fury she had.
She cried out when his fingers sank into her raw flesh.
Pain exploded through her arm as he slammed her wrist against the rusted pipe.
Her makeshift blade clattered to the floor.
“No!” she choked out.
