“The scans show a moderate concussion,” the doctor explains. “You should rest, avoid strenuous activity?—”
The door bursts open so violently that it hits the wall with a bang that makes everyone in the room flinch. Robin rushes in, her face pale. “Eva! Oh my God—are you okay?”
She’s wearing the same clothes she had on when I left for the meeting, but her hair is disheveled as if she’s been running her hands through it, and there are tear tracks on her cheeks. The sight of her distress is infuriating.
I do not want this woman to have to worry about me like she worries about her siblings. She has enough concerns. So I manage a smirk that feels more natural than the fear churning in my gut. “It takes more than an armored truck to kill me, little bird.”
But as Robin crosses the room and throws her arms around me, something inside me goes very still. Her warmth, her relief, the way she clings to me like I’m her anchor in a storm—it should comfort me.
Instead, it terrifies me more than any ambush ever could.
Because I can see it now, with perfect clarity, the same way I saw it while the attack was going on. Robin in that car instead of safe at the hotel. Robin caught in crossfire meant for me. Robin’s blood on my hands because I was selfish enough to think I could have love and power both.
And the children. They rode in those cars themselves to the restaurant. Maisie’s bright laugh could have been silenced forever, all because her sister caught the attention of a monster.
It was a fool’s desire.
All my hopes—bringing the kids to the castle, the idea Robin and I could have something normal, imagining a world where we could coexist without consequences—they all crumble to ash in my mind.
“You scared me to death,” Robin whispers against my neck, her voice thick with tears.
I think of my guards lying dead on Vegas asphalt. Of their families, who will receive death notifications tomorrow. Of the target I’ve painted on every person I’ve ever allowed myself to care about.
“I won’t do it again,” I promise softly. “Never again.”
Because I’ve already made my decision.
The woman I love will hate me for it. But she’ll bealiveto hate me, and her family will be safe, and that’s all that matters.
I glance around at the medical staff, at Leon, at my remaining guards. “Give us the room, please.”
Chapter 23
Robin
Eva looks smaller, somehow, in the sterile white bed, her dark hair making her face seem very pale. The bandage on her temple is a stark reminder of how close I came to losing her tonight.
She looks very serious. Very sad.
One phone call from Leon almost shattered my world.Eva’s been attacked. She’s in the hospital. The words had sent ice through my veins, the same cold terror I felt whenever we had to rush Maisie to the emergency room.
That’s when I knew.
The fear clawing at my throat, the way my heart stopped when I thought she might be dead—this isn’t just affection or attraction or desire. This is love. Real, consuming, terrifying love. The kind that makes you realize you’d rather die than live in a world without that person in it. That bone-deep terror of losing someone who matters more than your own life.
That’s what love is, isn’t it? When someone else’s mortality becomes more frightening than your own.
Eva reaches out to take my hand, and I squeeze hers back. But there’s something heavy in her expression. Something that makes my stomach clench with dread.
“You should rest,” I whisper.
“Robin, we need to talk.”
And then I know what she’s about to say, clear as day. “Don’t do this,” I say at once. “Please don’t do this again.”
Eva’s voice is soft but firm, each word carefully measured. “It’s too dangerous. For you. For your family. My world—it’s all sharp corners, Robin. And if you stay near me, it will cut you and everyone you love to pieces.”
“We can figure it out,” I say desperately, gripping her hand tighter. “We can.”
