The sterile smell of antiseptic mixed with the low murmur of voices. Nurses passed by with brisk efficiency, their faces masks of practiced calm. But inside the hospital room, the air was thick with something else—something darker. Dread clung to the walls like smoke after a fire.
Luciano stood at Nia's side, his eyes fixed on her as if she might vanish if he blinked.
The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor was the only sound anchoring him to the present. Everything else felt distant, muted. Nia's face was pale, her breathing shallow and uneven. She was stable—for now—thanks to the rapid response of the medics. But her life hung by a thread, woven into the chaos of the night.
He hadn't left her side. Not once.
Hands that once held control like currency now trembled as he reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair from her face. His fingertips lingered against her skin, tracing the curve of her jaw, willing her to wake up. He had known power. He had mastered control. But now, watching her fight for every breath, he felt utterly lost.
He had never felt more vulnerable.
The door creaked open, breaking the silence. A doctor entered, followed closely by a nurse, their expressions composed but far from comforting.
Luciano didn't look away from Nia. His gaze stayed locked on her face, his jaw tight. "How is she?" he asked, his voice rough.
The doctor cleared his throat, glancing between the machines and the woman lying motionless in the bed. "She's stable. The bullet grazed her abdomen, causing severe blood loss. We were able to stop the bleeding, but…"
Luciano's hand curled into a fist. "But?"
"There's still a risk of complications," the doctor admitted. "Internal damage isn't always obvious right away. She needs to be under close observation for the next 48 hours. We'll monitor for any signs of infection or internal rupture. If things change, we may need to operate again."
"Not an option," Luciano muttered, his voice low and dangerous. Not for her. Not again.
The doctor offered a tight nod, sensing the line that shouldn't be crossed. He turned to the nurse, giving a silent instruction to check the monitors, then quietly stepped out.
Luciano's eyes never left Nia. His mind reeled with a thousand questions. How had this happened? Who had done this to her? And why?
His phone buzzed in his pocket. The vibration jolted him from the spiral. He pulled it out—
A message from his security team.
No suspects yet. But there's a le
ad.
A lead.
It wasn't enough.