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The soft beep of the heart monitor was the only sound keeping her tethered to sanity. Three days. Seventy-two hours of sterile light, antiseptic, and the shallow rise and fall of his chest under white sheets.

Kadie hadn’t left the hospital room except to shower. And even then, reluctantly.

Each minute felt like glass grinding against her skin.

Each second Vincenzo remained unconscious—each moment his body refused to respond—stretched her guilt into something unbearable.

She sat in the chair next to the bed now, elbows on her knees, fingers threaded tightly. Her eyes never left him.

He looked so pale. So still.

Vincenzo LaRosa—the man who once made empires tremble with a whisper—was now a fragile figure lost beneath a blanket. His hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the way it once gripped the edge of a desk or the curve of her spine.

She should’ve protected him.

She should’ve known Antonio was watching—waiting.

She should’ve never let Enzo out of her sight.

A soft knock came at the door, but she didn’t move.

It opened anyway.

Camilla stepped in quietly, her face drawn. “Kadie… you need to eat something.”

“I’m fine,” Kadie murmured, barely blinking.

“You’ve been here for three days.”

“He could’ve died.”

“I know.”

Silence passed like a shadow.

Camilla finally walked in, set a small food tray on the windowsill, and sat across from her.

“You haven’t heard from Antonio?” she asked softly.

Kadie’s throat tightened. “No.”

“Nothing? No message, no threat?”

Kadie shook her head, her voice brittle. “Not a word.”

Camilla leaned forward, her expression grave. “That’s not like him.”

“I know.” Kadie’s voice cracked. “And that’s what scares me.”

She reached for Vincenzo’s hand, curling her fingers around his cold ones. “He took Enzo, Camilla. He just… disappeared. No trace.”

“And Vincenzo?”

“The doctors say he’s stable. That the bullet missed anything vital. But he hasn’t woken up. It’s like… like he’s stuck somewhere between coming back and letting go.”

They sat in silence.

Then suddenly—a flicker.

A twitch in the fingers beneath hers.

Kadie jerked upright, staring at his hand.

“Camilla—” she gasped, barely daring to breathe. “I think—”

Vincenzo’s hand twitched again.

Then his eyelids fluttered.

She shot to her feet, gripping his arm. “Vincenzo? Vincenzo, can you hear me?”

Camilla stood too, her breath catching.

He let out a ragged breath—shallow, but real.

Then, finally, his eyes opened. Groggy. Disoriented. But alive.

“Kadie?” he croaked, voice like sandpaper.

She felt the tears before she knew she was crying.

“Yes,” she choked, smoothing her hand over his hair. “Yes, I’m here. I’m here.”

His eyes darted around the room in confusion. “Where—what happened?”

“You were shot,” Camilla said, gently stepping closer. “You’ve been out for three days.”

Kadie leaned over him, her face inches from his. “Antonio took Enzo.”

The words slammed into the air like a detonated charge.

Vincenzo’s entire body stiffened.

“What?”

“He came from behind. After you were shot. He took Enzo, Vincenzo. He vanished.”

Vincenzo’s breathing quickened, rage flickering in his eyes despite the haze of pain.

“Where is he?”

“We don’t know.”

He tried to sit up but grimaced, falling back against the pillows. “I have to find him. I have to—”

“You need to rest.” Kadie pressed her hand gently to his chest. “You’re not strong enough yet.”

“I don’t care,” he growled, voice raw. “He took our son.”

“Our son,” she repeated softly, that truth finally settling like a weight between them.

Vincenzo looked up at her, something wounded in his expression. “I failed you. I failed him.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You tried to protect us. You almost died trying to protect him.”

He turned his head to the side, jaw clenched. “And now Antonio has him. That madman has Enzo.”

Camilla spoke up gently. “We’ll find him, Vincenzo. Artemus and the team have locked down all airfields in Liguria. Marco has tapped into traffic cams along the main roads. He can’t run forever.”

Kadie added, “We just need a lead.”

Vincenzo closed his eyes, pained.

When he opened them again, there was a storm behind them.

“Bellissimo,” he said, voice hushed. “If anything happens to me again—if Antonio uses me to lure you—don’t follow. Do you hear me? Don’t come after me.”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

Their eyes locked—two stubborn hearts clashing like waves on rock.

Camilla cleared her throat, sensing the intensity. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

She stepped outside, shutting the door softly.

Kadie lowered herself beside him, her hand tracing the edge of his bandage.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

Vincenzo exhaled shakily. “Nothing will happen to our son. Trust me.”

“But I’ll fight for him. For us. For all of this.”

He looked at her then, his voice suddenly tender.

“I never thought I’d have something worth dying for.”

Kadie smiled through tears. “Then live. Live for him.”

“I will,” he swore, gripping her hand. “We’ll bring him home.”

Pain was a dull roar under Vincenzo's ribs, but it was the silence after Kadie’s words that truly unsettled him.

He opened my mouth to speak again, but the door burst open.

Pedro stormed in, rain dampening the shoulders of his dark coat, urgency etched into every line of his face.

Kadie jumped up. “Pedro?”

His eyes locked onto Vincenzo. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

He didn’t wait for pleasantries. He crossed the room in three swift strides and dropped a folder onto the bedside table.

“They were there,” he said. “Antonio’s men. At your office, at the safe house. Searching. Tearing the place apart, they shot some of our men.”

Vincenzo’s pulse kicked harder.

“Looking for the documents,” he said grimly.

Pedro nodded. “Yeah. They came in under the radar. Tried to be discreet, but the second they noticed them there, I was alerted.”

Kadie frowned. “How long ago was this?”

“This morning,” Pedro replied. “But—”

He looked at Vincenzo, a ghost of a smile cutting through the tension.

“They didn’t find a damn thing.”

Vincenzo let out a breath. “Because you moved them.”

“Right after I got the call that you were shot,” Pedro said. “Didn’t trust anyone—not even some of the guards at the safe house. I drove to the office myself, got the briefcase from your hidden vault, and brought it straight to Camilla’s apartment.”

Kadie’s eyes widened. “Camilla has them?”

“She doesn’t even know what’s inside,” Pedro said. “Told her it was personal—sensitive information for Vincenzo’s recovery. She didn’t question it.”

Vincenzo exhaled slowly, letting the relief seep in. That was one thing Antonio hadn’t accounted for—Pedro’s vigilance. His loyalty.

His timing.

“What if they go looking at hers?” Kadie asked.

“They won't find it.”

Vincenzo nodded, the pain still biting but eclipsed now by cold clarity.

“He’s making his move. That means he’s running out of time.”

Pedro’s jaw tightened. “Exactly. He thought by getting Enzo and eliminating you, everything else would fall into place. But without those documents, all he has is smoke.”

“He’s stalling,” I muttered. “Which gives us time to build a counterstrike.”

Kadie shifted closer to the bed. “We can use the documents against him.”

Pedro was already ahead of us. “That’s what I came to say. I spoke to Artemus an hour ago. He’s working on tracing Antonio’s last known location. If we get even a whisper of where he’s holding Enzo—”

Vincenzo’s voice dropped, steel threading through it. “—we go in.”

Pedro nodded firmly. “And we end this.”

The weight in my chest hadn’t lifted, not truly. Because the boy—my boy Enzo—was still missing. Still in Antonio’s hands. The man I once called brother. The man who now held a child hostage for power.

Kadie turned to Pedro. “Did they leave anything behind? At the office?”

“A few prints. Some burned files. Nothing useful yet,” Pedro said. “But I’ve got someone scrubbing security footage from nearby businesses. We might be able to track their escape vehicle. That gives us a route, a direction.”

“Good,” I said through gritted teeth. “Because the moment I can stand, I’m going after him myself.”

Pedro raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been awake twenty minutes and already sound like a soldier.”

“I’m done waiting,” I said darkly. “He crossed a line.”

Pedro’s phone buzzed. He glanced down, then frowned. “Speak of the devil…”

“What is it?” Kadie asked.

“A call from Artemus.”

Pedro stepped aside to answer.

Kadie sat beside Vincenzo again, her hand sliding gently into his.

“I should’ve known he’d make a move that night,” I muttered. “He didn’t just want revenge—he wanted everything.”

“You couldn’t have predicted this, Vincenzo,” she said softly. “You did everything you could.”

I looked at her. The storm in my chest calmed slightly under her gaze.

She had been my anchor through it all.

Before I could speak, Pedro returned, his expression grim.

“We might have something.”

My heart picked up again.

“Artemus just got a lead. A rental property registered to one of Antonio’s old contacts—a disbarred lawyer with cartel ties. It's a small place, inland. Secluded.”

“Enzo?” Kadie asked, eyes wide.

“They can’t confirm yet. But they’re heading there now,” Pedro said.

“Send backup,” I said instantly. “No mistakes this time. I want Antonio alive.”

“Already done,” Pedro replied. “We’ll know more within the hour.”

I sank back into the pillows, exhaustion pulling at me again. But for the first time in days, I felt like we weren’t losing ground.

Pedro had protected what mattered. Enzo might still be within reach. And Antonio… he was running out of shadows to hide in. I held back this long because he was family but that ship had sailed…