Jax was lounging in the living room when the guards wheeled me in. He looked up, surprised, mid-sip of his scotch. He probably expected me to stay in the hospital for at least another week.

He set his glass down and walked over, looking guilty now. But the guilt was fleeting. The anger from the accident had faded, replaced by that dismissive charm he used to smooth over felonies.

"Eliana," he said, reaching for the handles of my wheelchair as if reclaiming his property. "I'm glad you're back. Listen, about the stairs... let's just put it behind us. Accidents happen."

Accidents. As if he hadn't made a choice.

He pulled a black card from his pocket. The Centurion card. No limit.

"Why don't you buy yourself something nice? Redecorate the bedroom. Whatever you want."

I looked at the card. It was a piece of plastic that could buy a small island. He was trying to buy my silence. He was trying to buy my forgiveness for choosing her over my life.

I took the card.

Jax smiled, relieved. "Good girl."

The endearment made my skin crawl. I snapped the card in half.

The crack was sharp, echoing in the quiet room like a pistol shot.

Jax's smile faltered. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't want your money, Jax," I said, my voice steady. "I don't want your gifts. I don't want your apologies."

"Then what do you want?" he demanded, his patience snapping.

"Nothing from you."

I wheeled myself past him toward the elevator.

"You're being hysterical," he called after me, his voice bouncing off the marble floors. "You'll get over it. You always do."

I went to my room. I didn't redecorate. I purged.

I took every gift he had ever given me. The designer bags. The shoes. The jewelry I hadn't given to Maria.

I shoved them all into trash bags. I piled the bags onto my lap and wheeled them into the hallway, dumping them like refuse.

Then, I opened the drawer where I kept the engagement ring. A five-carat flawless diamond. It felt cold and heavy in my palm.

I wheeled myself to the bathroom and dropped it into the trash can next to the toilet. It landed with a dull thud among used tissues. Fitting.

My phone rang. It was my father.

"Eliana," his voice was tight. Urgent. "Where is Jax?"

"I don't know," I said. "With her, probably."

"Listen to me. The Rossi family... they have something. They claim to have proof of Jax's off-book deals in the harbor. The ones he did for Catalina's father."

I closed my eyes. Of course.

"They're threatening to go to the Commission," my father continued, panic rising in his tone. "If they do, Jax loses his seat. He might lose his life. We need to strategize. Put him on the phone."

"He's not available," I said.

"Eliana, this is life or death!"

"Not my life," I said. "And not my death."

"He is your fiancé!"

"No," I said, cutting the cord. "He's a liability."

I hung up.

I sat there in the silence of my room. I knew exactly what was happening. Jax had exposed the family to protect Catalina. He had broken the rules. And now the wolves were circling.

Normally, I would be the one fixing this. I would be the one forging the documents, making the calls, smoothing the ruffled feathers. I was the Consigliere's daughter. I was the fixer.

But I looked at my broken leg. I looked at the trash can where the ring lay buried in filth.

I wheeled myself to the window. Down below, I saw Jax's car speeding out of the driveway. He was probably going to "fix" it himself. Which meant he was going to shoot someone.

He was going to start a war. For her.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't going to stand in front of the bullet.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number I had memorized but never used. A contact in New York. A safe house broker.

"I need a flat," I said when the line connected. "Tonight. Cash upfront."

"Name?" the voice asked.

"Eliana," I said. Then I paused. "Just Eliana. No last name."

I hung up. The storm was coming for Jax Viles. And I wasn't going to be his shield anymore.

Chapter 5

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