Mara woke to someone pounding on her door.

She sat upright.

The clock read 2:18 a.m.

"Mara."

Tony.

She was out of bed before he knocked again.

"What happened?"

"Vincent."

She ran.

The bedroom door was open.

Vincent was sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand gripping the mattress, the other pressed against his abdomen.

Blood stained his T-shirt.

"What did you do?"

"Good morning to you too."

"Lie down."

"No."

"Vincent."

"I tried to stand."

"Alone?"

Silence.

Mara stared at him.

"You tried to stand alone."

"I was successful."

"You're bleeding."

"Minor detail."

Mara looked at Tony.

"Leave."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"You heard her," Vincent said.

Tony walked out, hiding a smile.

Mara shut the door.

Then she turned on Vincent.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"A long list, according to you."

"You could have fallen."

"I didn't."

"You reopened your incision."

"Barely."

"You are not invincible."

Vincent's expression changed.

"I know."

The quietness of the answer stole some of her anger.

Mara pulled on gloves and lifted his shirt.

The wound had opened less than half an inch.

Not catastrophic.

Still stupid.

She cleaned it.

Vincent hissed.

"Good."

He looked at her.

"Good?"

"Pain is educational."

"You're sadistic."

"You hired me."

"No. Tony did."

"Then fire him."

A faint smile appeared.

Mara applied a fresh dressing.

When she finished, Vincent caught her hand.

Not hard.

Nothing like the first night.

Just enough to stop her.

"Mara."

"What?"

"Sit."

She hesitated.

Then sat beside him.

He released her hand.

For several seconds, neither spoke.

"I stood for almost a minute," he said.

She looked at him.

"Alone?"

"Yes."

Despite herself, she smiled.

"That's good."

"I knew you'd say that."

"Still stupid."

"I knew you'd say that too."

Their shoulders almost touched.

The room was quiet.

The curtains were open nearly a foot now.

Moonlight crossed the floor.

Vincent looked toward it.

"I dreamed about her."

"Your mother?"

He nodded.

"First time in years."

Mara waited.

"She wasn't in the garden."

"Where was she?"

"Kitchen."

Vincent almost laughed.

"She was yelling at my father because he'd bought the wrong tomatoes."

Mara smiled.

"Terrifying."

"You have no idea."

He looked at her.

They were too close.

Mara became aware of it at exactly the same moment Vincent did.

His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.

Her breath caught.

No.

Bad idea.

Terrible idea.

Patient.

Employer.

Possible criminal kingpin.

She stood.

"Get some sleep."

Vincent's mouth curved.

"Coward."

Mara pointed at him.

"Don't start."

She walked toward the door.

"Mara."

She looked back.

"Thank you."

That was worse than the almost-kiss.

She left before he could see it on her face.

---

At breakfast, Tony handed her an envelope.

Mara's stomach dropped.

Another photograph?

She opened it.

Cash.

Ten thousand dollars.

"Friday," Tony said.

Mara stared at the money.

She had been at the estate one week.

One week had bought Ethan more time.

Her eyes burned.

She closed the envelope.

"Can someone take this to Midwest Cancer Institute?"

"Already arranged."

Mara looked at him.

"Vincent?"

Tony shrugged.

"Didn't ask."

Of course.

Her relief lasted exactly seven minutes.

Then the secure house phone rang.

Tony answered.

His expression changed.

"Mara."

She took the phone.

"Samantha?"

Her friend's voice was breathless.

"Where the hell are you?"

"Working."

"Ethan's room was accessed last night."

Mara went cold.

"What?"

"Someone used a temporary staff badge. Security found the record this morning."

"Did they get inside?"

"I don't know."

"Is Ethan okay?"

"He's okay."

Mara gripped the phone.

"Don't leave him."

"I won't."

She hung up.

Vincent was already watching her from the doorway of the dining room.

He was in the wheelchair.

"What happened?"

Mara told him.

His face hardened.

"Tony."

"Already on it," Tony said.

"No."

Vincent wheeled himself closer.

"Move Ethan."

Mara stared.

"What?"

"Today."

"You can't move a leukemia patient like a chess piece."

"I have a private medical floor downtown."

"You have a what?"

"DeLuca Foundation owns part of a rehabilitation facility."

"Of course you do."

"It has oncology capability."

Mara shook her head.

"No."

Vincent's eyes narrowed.

"Mara."

"No. Ethan's doctors are at Midwest."

"They can come with him."

"You don't buy doctors."

"Everyone says that until they see the number."

"Stop."

Vincent went silent.

Mara realized she was shaking.

"I can't just move him every time someone scares me."

"This isn't someone scaring you."

He held her gaze.

"It's someone showing you they can reach him."

Mara looked away.

That was the problem.

He was right.

She hated him for being right.

"Talk to his oncologist," she said.

"I already did."

Her head snapped back.

"You what?"

"At six this morning."

"Vincent!"

"She agrees the transfer is medically safe."

"You went behind my back?"

"I went ahead of you."

"That's the same thing with worse manners."

"Mara—"

"You do not get to control Ethan."

"I'm trying to keep him alive."

"He's my brother!"

"And that's why you're not thinking clearly."

The words detonated.

Mara stepped toward him.

"Don't you dare."

Vincent realized the mistake.

Too late.

"I've been thinking clearly since I was twenty years old and signing custody papers while my friends were deciding where to spend spring break."

"Mara—"

"I've sat through every biopsy. Every chemotherapy cycle. Every fever. Every insurance appeal."

Her voice broke.

She hated it.

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

Vincent's anger vanished.

Mara turned away.

Then his voice came quietly.

"I know."

She closed her eyes.

"I know you do."

A pause.

"I also know you're tired."

Mara said nothing.

"And I know someone is using that against you."

She turned.

Vincent looked different.

Not like the man who terrified half of Chicago.

Just a man sitting in a wheelchair, unable to protect someone without turning protection into an order.

"If you say no," he said, "Ethan stays."

Mara stared at him.

"No argument?"

"No."

"No threats?"

"Trying something new."

She almost laughed.

"Let me speak to his oncologist."

Vincent nodded.

Two hours later, Mara approved the transfer.

---

Ethan was moved before sunset.

His oncology team remained in charge.

The new floor had private security.

No unknown badges.

No unmonitored entrances.

Mara finally breathed.

That evening, she entered Vincent's room carrying the gait belt.

He looked at it.

"No."

"Absolutely yes."

"I protected your brother."

"That doesn't buy you a day off."

"I paid ten thousand dollars for this abuse."

"Technically you paid me to keep you alive."

Mara fastened the belt.

"Stand."

He did.

The first step came easier.

Then another.

His right leg trembled.

"Again."

Vincent moved.

One.

Two.

Three steps.

Mara backed up with him.

His hand rested at her waist.

Her hand pressed against his chest.

"You're doing it."

"I noticed."

"Don't get arrogant."

"Too late."

A fourth step.

Then his knee buckled.

Mara caught him.

They fell together against the side of the bed.

Vincent's arms closed around her.

Mara's face was inches from his.

Neither moved.

His eyes dropped to her mouth again.

This time she didn't step away immediately.

"Mara."

Her name sounded different in his voice.

Low.

Almost a warning.

She swallowed.

"I'm your nurse."

Vincent's gaze returned to her eyes.

"Not forever."

Her heart kicked hard.

Then the bedroom door opened.

Tony stopped.

"Bad time?"

Mara jumped away.

Vincent looked murderous.

Tony didn't apologize.

"We found something."

He handed Vincent a printed security report.

"Someone accessed the staff network last night."

Vincent read it.

"Who?"

"Credentials belonged to a housekeeper."

"Which one?"

"That's the problem."

Tony looked at Mara.

"She died eight months ago."

Silence.

Someone wasn't simply hiding inside the DeLuca estate.

Someone had been preparing for this long before Vincent was injured.