The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind the guards, leaving a thick, suffocating stillness in the master bedroom. The air tasted of copper, expensive bourbon, and the sour sweat of agony.

By evening, the news had swept through Grayhaven House like a wildfire through dry timber. The servants whispered in terrified huddles near the industrial kitchens, while armed men patrolled the hallways with assault rifles locked and loaded.

Marcus Vance, the treacherous CFO, was scheduled to arrive at the mansion by eight o'clock for a routine financial audit. He had no idea that Damian’s heart was still beating—or that his assassination plot had been miraculously short-circuited by a four-year-old girl with a pink hearing aid.

Damian had insisted that Lila and I remain in his master suite. The vast, vaulted room was transformed into a gilded fortress. Servants rushed in bearing platters of gourmet meals, fresh clothes, and toys for Lila, who was currently sitting on the massive mahogany desk, coloring pictures with expensive markers while Damian reviewed encrypted financial ledgers.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the heavy rain lash against the reinforced glass.

"You don't have to keep us here like prisoners, Mr. Volkov," I said quietly, turning to face him. "We can pack our bags and leave. We won't say a word to anyone. I swear it."

Damian didn't look up from his tablet. "Leave and go where, Clara? Marcus Vance’s men already control the outer gates. If you walk out of this mansion tonight, you won't make it two blocks before they eliminate any loose ends—especially witnesses who saw me on the verge of death."

A chill rolled down my spine. "You think Marcus knows we were in here?"

"Marcus knows everything that happens in this house," Damian said coldly, finally raising his eyes. The harsh overhead light caught the sharp angles of his face, making him look carved from obsidian. "Including the fact that my security detail has been compromised. The only reason you and your daughter are still breathing is because every time Lila touches my chest, the poison in my bloodstream neutralizes. She is my human antidote."

I gasped, taking a step back. "You're using her?"

"I am protecting her," Damian corrected sharply, standing up from his chair. Despite his lingering weakness, his presence was overwhelming. He towered over me, his dark eyes intense. "If Marcus realizes I’m recovering, he will storm this wing with an army. But if he thinks I’m a helpless invalid, he will walk right into my trap. And when he does, your daughter and you will be safe behind the strongest walls in Baltimore."

Before I could argue, a sharp chime echoed from the security console on the wall.

Viktor’s voice crackled through the intercom: "Boss. Marcus Vance has just entered the grand foyer. He’s asking for immediate access to the master suite to pay his final respects."