For eighty-nine days, Dominic Vale had been a ghost tangled in medical wiring. Now, his hand—heavy, calloused, and radiating dangerous heat—was locked around my wrist with a terrifying, vice-like strength. The monitors were no longer beeping in their predictable, soothing cadence; they were screaming a frantic, high-pitched symphony of chaos.

“Clara? Get away from the windows,” his voice crackled back, harsh and urgent. “Julian is on the lower deck. He’s looking for leverage.”

“He’s right outside the bridge!” I replied, my voice shaking. “And he knows you’re coming for him. It’s a trap, Dominic! The entire dock is wired with explosives—I can see the detonator pack blinking on the camera feed near the fuel tanks!”

A heavy silence hung on the line for three agonizing seconds.

Then, Dominic let out a cold, chilling laugh.

“Let him think he has me trapped,” Dominic whispered. “Keep your head down, Clara. This ends tonight.”

The connection clicked dead.

Before I could process his words, the heavy titanium door of the yacht’s bridge blew inward with a deafening blast. Smoke billowed into the cabin.

Through the haze, Julian Vale stepped inside, his assault rifle raised, a triumphant, psychotic grin spread across his face.

“Well, well,” Julian purred, lowering his weapon slightly as he looked me up and down. “So this is the famous nurse. You must be quite good in bed to make my stubborn brother finally start speaking after three months.”

I stepped backward until my spine hit the glowing computer console, my hands clenching into fists. “You’re insane. He’s your brother.”

“He was an obstacle,” Julian corrected coldly, raising the barrel of his rifle straight toward my chest. “And now, you’re going to help me finish him.”

“Looking for me, brother?”