I didn’t tell her that I was fucking terrified Gabriel would ask me to get lost too. Or that he wouldn’t forgive me, as he shouldn’t. And most of all, I struggled to get rid of this guilt of what I had done to this man who had been nothing but supportive, charming, and so goddamn understanding in recent months.

  “I never wanted it to end like this,” Elira murmured, standing by the door.

  “Neither did I,” I said quietly. “But that doesn’t absolve us of our guilt or our responsibilities.”

  I stood and crossed to Gabriel’s bedside, letting my hand hover over his, not quite touching. He looked too still, too far away from the man I remembered—sharp eyes, sharper tongue, always calculating.

  Would that man wake up and see me as a traitor? Or a solution? Would he be able to see me at all?

  “I’ll make the offer,” I said to no one in particular. “He deserves the chance to say yes or to destroy us.”

  Amara

  Outside Gabriel’s room, the air changed, announcing the arrival of newcomers.

  You could feel it in the way the security team subtly repositioned themselves by the door, and the way Kian’s shoulders went still.

  “Keep an eye on him and let me know the moment he wakes up,” I instructed the nurse, then slipped out of the room with Kian to ensure we wouldn’t disturb Gabriel, who had yet to wake up.

  Raphael Santos strode toward us like he was God’s gift to the human race, and suddenly I knew exactly where Gabriel got his confidence from.

  His suit was crisp, dark, and his expression was carved from stone. Beside him, his wife, Sailor Santos, walked in with soft feet and an even softer smile. Her platinum hair was pulled into a severe twist, her eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses. But her hands were clenched and there was a distinct wobble to her chin.

  Kian stepped forward to greet them, the hospital hallway suspiciously empty.

  I stood beside him, spine straight, hands clenched in front of me like Mother Liana taught us when dealing with powerful men.

  “Raphael,” Kian greeted. “Sailor.”

  Raphael’s eyes didn’t flicker. “Where is my brother?”

  “Stable. Recovering from surgery. His internal organs weren’t damaged.” Kian gestured toward the door behind us. “He still hasn’t woken up from surgery, and they have him under observation. He’s not alone.”

  Raphael’s chin twitched. “And my daughter?”

  “Anya’s with my brother,” I chimed in. There was a beat. A pause in which I felt the heat of Raphael’s attention move to me. “She’s safe. Jet took her away so they can lie low in case the Triad attacks again.”

  Truthfully, I couldn’t believe that after all the manipulation, I was saving my brother’s ass. The only excuse I had was that I knew—at least, I hoped I knew—that he would do the same for me.

  “Amara Cullen.” His voice was low and smooth, but beneath it was thunder. “So you’re the girl who says she’s going to marry my brother.”

  Dammit, how much had Kian told them? I silently cursed him for saying anything at all, especially since I hadn’t had a chance to ask Gabriel.

  Jesus Christ, am I actually proposing to a man? Talk about unorthodox.

  “Don’t tell me I rendered you speechless, girl,” Raphael said sharply, causing Sailor to pat his hand as if to soothe him.

  The weight of the moment squeezed my chest like a vise. I stepped forward.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m going to marry Gabriel if he’ll have me.”

  “You think he will?” Raphael asked. “After you kidnapped him?”

  Well, this was going splendidly.

  I squared my shoulders. “It doesn’t seem to be a problem when one of you kidnaps your future wife, so I thought I’d just follow suit.”

  Sailor’s lips twitched and her head tilted slightly, eyes locked on to me even behind the tint of her lenses. It was as if she were judging my worth.

  “The result of our future wives’ kidnapping never ended in a trip to the hospital,” Raphael continued.

  I scoffed, my brows furrowing. “You’re joking, right? Do you think I’m an idiot just because I’m young?”

  He ignored my sarcasm and my comment.

  “My brother is blind and unconscious. Jet has taken my daughter. And all of this”—he turned to look at Kian—“happened under your protection.”

  “Excuse me, but you won’t be putting all this on me,” Kian cut him off, cold and deadly. “You never mentioned the girl had a boyfriend.”

  Raphael’s jaw tightened and I swallowed hard. Was I really going to defend the asshole? I sighed, because yes, I was. He’d had a rough day.

  “Raphael couldn’t have known. Anya merely said there was a boy she liked and flat-out told me it wasn’t Jet.”

  “I don’t need you to defend me, girl.”

  “Watch it,” Kian growled.

  “Listen, we can do this all day,” I cut in, trying not to tremble. “We can blame each other and blah, blah, blah. Your guards obviously didn’t report there was a man staying with Anya. Kian has his own organization to run. The bottom line is that Jet protected Anya when the attack hit. We should focus on the Triad and how to keep all of us safe.”

  Damn good speech if I may say so.

  Raphael’s nostrils flared.

  “Are you suggesting I be okay with Jet taking Anya and not alerting anyone of their whereabouts? My brother lies wounded in your territory. Tell me, what part of this feels safe to you?”

  “Well, how in the fuck were we supposed to know that the Triad was going to hit? Did you do some shady deal with them? Because we sure as fuck didn’t,” I snapped, then pinched the bridge of my nose.

  Kian stepped forward, his hand resting on my shoulder. My parents and Mother Liana would always have my back, but Kian would kill his friends and enemies to defend me. It was amazing having him in my corner, and I was grateful for it.

  “The marriage between Gabriel and Amara is a good solution,” Kian said calmly. “It’ll prevent escalations and strengthen our alliance. Jet and Elira are part of our family and part of that alliance too.”

  Sailor lifted her sunglasses now, surveying all of us, and said, “But a union has happened already. Without our permission, I might add.”

  Silence stretched so long you could have dropped a scalpel and it would’ve echoed like gunfire.

  “All I have is a photo of Anya smiling happily after those two got hitched,” Kian grumbled. “I don’t know how, when, or why it happened.”

  I groaned. Of course Anya’s parents would have learned—somehow, someway—that she and Jet had gotten married.

  “It gives the Santos empire even more leverage,” Kian continued. “Jet’s the sole heir to the Volkov empire. Amara is the heiress to⁠—”

  “I don’t give a shit what they have or will inherit,” Raphael roared. “You think I want my brother shackled in some backroom negotiation while he’s bleeding out in a hospital bed and wondering whether he’ll ever see again?”

  Raphael stared at Kian like he’d lost his mind.

  “No,” Kian replied calmly. “But like Amara said, if he agrees and⁠—”

  “I think you’re trying to save these three and are willing to go to any length for it. I’m not letting my brother pay for your family’s fuckup. Because let’s face it, Kian, every one of those kids, the Satan’s twins and Amara, are ruthless savages that⁠—”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted.

  Another silence followed, this one more dangerous than the last.

  “Wh-what?” It was the first time I had ever heard Kian stutter. It would probably be the last time too.

  I smiled sheepishly, hoping he wouldn’t see the lie in my eyes. “Gabriel and I… Well, we’ve been circling each other for years. I never thought we’d… hmm… move on to the next step, you know. So I wasn’t prepared.”

  Please forgive me, Gabriel.

  Sailor exhaled slowly and stepped forward. “You’re pregnant with Gabriel’s baby?”

  I met her gaze.

  “Yes.”

  “And if he’s never able to see again?”

  “His vision makes no difference to me. It’ll be a difficult transition, but we can work around it together.” My voice shook, but I didn’t let it break. “Like I said, if he’ll have me, I’ll marry him in a heartbeat. I’d marry him in every lifetime, and together we can protect everyone.”

  Strangely enough, I meant those words.

  Raphael studied me like he couldn’t quite decide whether to end me or let me live. Then, he finally turned to look at Kian.

  “If my brother agrees,” he said, “then fine. A marriage.”

  “And Jet?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  His gaze flicked to me. “Don’t push your luck, girl.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but the deal was made. Not sealed, but set in motion.

  As Raphael and Sailor entered Gabriel’s room, I stayed behind, my legs unsteady.

  I knew what came next: telling Gabriel that I lied about the pregnancy and begging him to marry me—for peace, for protection, and maybe even for love.

  And I prayed to God he’d say yes.

  Gabriel

  The first thing I felt was pain.

  It wasn’t sharp and immediate, but more like heavy and shapeless. Almost as if my entire body were covered in one large bruise.

  My chest throbbed, every breath scraping against the inside of my ribs like broken glass. There was a tightness around my eyes, strange and wrong, like something was pressing down behind them.

  What the fuck happened? I thought to myself, but then the memories came rushing in. The explosion. Amara screaming my name, Kian instructing me to stay awake as I went in and out of consciousness, unable to see anything around me.

  My fingers twitched against stiff sheets. My hands moved, searching, confused—reaching for something or someone. But there was only the weightless press of a blanket, and the sharp, sterile tang of antiseptic thick in the air. Underneath it, the scent of latex and burned fabric.

  I blinked. Once. Twice. Nothing.

  There were no shadows, no color. No light bleeding through closed lids. Just black. Not even that, really. Just nothing.

  I reached up to my face and brushed against a gauze.

  My heart kicked against my ribs like it was trying to break free. I tried to breathe, counting in my head to keep the panic from swallowing me whole.

  One… two…

  “He’s awake,” said a male voice I would recognize anywhere.

  What the hell was Raphael doing here?

  Had I died and not gotten the memo? If so, and this was the afterlife, then Dios santo, I needed a tour guide and a complaint sheet. I was too young for that shit.

  Maybe I was hallucinating.

  “Gabriel?” That voice was more like sandpaper against silk. Elira. Fuck, I had to be alive, because there was no way the two of us would be in the afterlife together if I was dead. “Amara, he’s awake,” she said, louder this time.

  The room held its breath—so did I—as I heard the door click shut, then a shuffle of feet.

  “Gabriel.” Her voice cracked slightly on my name. “It’s me, Amara.”

  The warmth was familiar as her hand slipped into mine, her fingers curling gently around my own like they’d always belonged there. She squeezed, not too tight, just enough to ground me.

  I turned my face toward her voice, chasing it like a lifeline in the dark. My eyelids fluttered, instinct taking over, but my bandage made it impossible to open my eyes. I reached up, ripping it off.

  “Gabriel,” she protested. “What are you doing?”

  “I need to see if…”

  I couldn’t even finish the fucking statement. I blinked once, twice, then stared—hard—willing something to come into focus.

  Nothing.

  “I… I can’t see,” I rasped. “I can’t see you.”

  My throat caught around the words. The air felt colder all of a sudden, despite her hand still wrapped around mine. The silence that followed was heavy with things neither of us wanted to speak yet.

  I felt her breath hitch, but she didn’t let go. She didn’t say it was going to be okay. She just held on.

  And somehow, that told me everything.

  “Why can’t I see you, Amara?”

  She was quiet again, and this time, the silence dragged. I heard her shift, the faint creak of the chair, the brush of fabric. I imagined her staring at my eyes, at the bandages or whatever they’d done to me. I imagined her trying to find the right words and failing.

  Then she exhaled slowly, like the words had been trapped behind her ribs too.

  “There was shrapnel,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I could feel her heat, and I realized she was putting the bandage back over my eyes. “When the explosion went off… Most of it hit your shoulder, but a piece—maybe more—hit near your eyes. The surgeons did everything they could and now we just have to wait.”

  My stomach turned. “Did everything,” I echoed hollowly. “That means it wasn’t enough.”

  She hesitated. “No, it means the optic nerve needs time to heal. Once it does, we’ll know more.”

  “So they think it might be permanent?”

  She sighed. “They really don’t know.”

  “I might never see your face again,” I whispered, struggling with the truth. There’d be no more smiles to memorize. No light. No color. Just black. “How long have I been like this?”

  “Four days,” she murmured. “You’ve been in and out. They kept you sedated because of the pain and the risk of swelling. Your shoulder healed up nicely, and your eyes⁠—”

  She faltered while a thousand questions swirled behind my teeth, but none of them made it out. I just lay there, frozen, letting the silence consume me.

  “You’re alive, Gabriel. That’s the most important thing. Your vision will return. I really believe that, and you must too.”

  I wanted to believe her. I wanted to agree. I really did.

  But all I could think about was how I’d never see her again.

  She squeezed my hand again, tighter this time. “Remember how you told me you always focus on the positives?” she said softly. “I’m asking you… begging you, please focus on the positives and we’ll get through this together.”

  “Together?” I repeated.

  There was no hesitation from her. “Yes, together.”

  “Who else is here?” I asked, my voice scraping out of my throat. “I thought I heard my brother’s voice… Raphael?”

  She stilled and her fingers twitched slightly around mine. “Yes, Raphael and Sailor are here. Kian too. And… others.”

  I turned my head, the motion slow and uncertain. “They’re in the room right now?”

  “No, they’re right outside, in the hallway. Want me to call them in?”

  I hesitated, not sure how I felt about being seen like this. I still had to process everything and come to terms with being seen as weak, being seen as a… target.

  “No, not yet.”

  A beat of silence fell between us. The air seemed to shift again, charged now with a question I didn’t want to ask but needed to.

  I swallowed the taste of hospital air, metallic on my tongue. “And Anya?”

  Silence stretched, and it was almost as if her answer was lodged in her throat and holding my hand was the only thing keeping it from breaking loose and spilling.

  I didn’t need her to speak to feel the change. The tension bled from her skin into mine, like ink in water.

  And in that silence, I already knew. Anya wasn’t here.

  “She and Jet disappeared,” Amara whispered. “They’re safe. Kian followed them, but Jet keeps evading him. Unfortunately, my brother knows this area really well.” I could hear a gulp echo between us. “I’m sure she’s safe.”

  I let out a sardonic breath, the sound bitter in my throat. “I guess it depends on whether Jet set up that explosion or not.”

  “He didn’t.”

  Her answer hit like a punch to the ribs. Relief came fast, hard, and unexpected. My whole chest trembled as I exhaled. I hadn’t realized how much I was bracing for confirmation.

  “The Triad was behind it, but none of us seem to know who they were after or why,” she continued. “Honestly, it’s probably for the best that they disappeared.”

  I turned my head slightly, trying to focus on the direction of her voice, even if my eyes still gave me nothing.

  “I’m not sure I agree,” I said quietly. “We don’t know if Anya’s with him willingly or not.”

  Although deep down I suspected.

  Even in the haze of memory, I could still picture my sister standing in her silky pajamas in the villa, her eyes shimmering and locked on Jet. I had to admit she didn’t look like a hostage. She looked like a woman in love.

  And God help me, I didn’t know if that was better or worse than believing Jet had taken her by force.

  There was no immediate answer, but I heard Amara scoot closer. Her scent followed the motion: something familiar, tinged with citrus and salt, like she’d just stepped out of the ocean.

  “I think we both know she isn’t a hostage, Gabriel.” She let out a long sigh. “And that I owe you a massive apology.”

  The room fell into silence.

  “I was so fucking stupid and blind,” she continued. “I played right into Jet’s and Elira’s schemes instead of listening to my gut and you. I knew something was off, and yet I stubbornly clung to my conviction that they wouldn’t betray me. Or maybe I hoped, and now my blindness… Dammit, that’s the wrong word.”

  “Yeah, not the best one,” I agreed, letting out a sardonic breath.

  “I’m so sorry, Gabriel.” Amara’s voice cracked. “I wish it was me who got hurt, not you. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I never followed Jet’s vague instructions, and instead listened to my gut. And most of all, I’m sorry for not trusting you, the man who’d always waited patiently in the shadows. I fucked up majorly.”

  “You did.” There was no sense in sugarcoating it. “And you should have trusted me over your siblings, but living on regrets is pointless and we cannot go back into the past.”