By sunset, Mercy Callahan’s name had become a liability.
Nathaniel didn’t say it that way.
He didn’t need to.
Men reinforced the windows.
Two SUVs were repositioned near the road.
Someone installed temporary cameras around the property.
Another man replaced the kitchen glass with plywood.
Mercy watched strangers turn the home she had inherited from her mother into a defensive position.
She hated every second of it.
Dominic slept through most of the afternoon.
The surgery had taken everything out of him.
Dr. Warren remained nearby.
When Dominic finally woke, Mercy was checking his temperature.
“Still here?” he murmured.
“It’s my house.”
“I meant beside the bed.”
Mercy looked at him.
“You’re my patient.”
“I thought you weren’t licensed.”
“You’re getting remarkably annoying for a man who nearly lost a leg.”
“That means I’m improving.”
“Unfortunately.”
He smiled faintly.
Mercy changed the dressing around his IV.
Dominic watched her.
“Adrian knows.”
She stopped.
“Nathaniel told you?”
“I heard enough.”
“Your cousin tried to kill you?”
“Apparently.”
“You sound disappointed, not surprised.”
“He’s been trying to take control of parts of the organization for years.”
“Organization.”
Dominic gave her a tired look.
“What would you prefer I call it?”
“I don’t know. Criminal empire?”
“Too dramatic.”
“Mafia?”
“Too cinematic.”
Mercy almost smiled.
Then she remembered the bullet in her kitchen wall.
“Someone shot at my house.”
His humor vanished.
“Yes.”
“Because of you.”
“Yes.”
“I should hate you.”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“You agree too easily.”
“I don’t have the right to argue.”
That answer disarmed her.
Dominic looked toward the plywood covering the window.
“When I can move, I’ll leave.”
“You can’t move.”
“Then you leave.”
“This again?”
“I have another property.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“It isn’t with me. Emmett can take you.”
“No.”
“Mercy.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“Why are you so stubborn?”
“Why are you?”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“So am I.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“Because my life comes with this.”
He gestured toward the window.
“Mine didn’t.”
The words landed harder than Mercy expected.
Dominic looked away.
“That’s exactly my point.”
For the first time since he arrived, Mercy saw shame on his face.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Shame.
“I didn’t choose your house,” he said. “If I had been conscious, I never would have let them bring me here.”
Mercy sat down.
“Why?”
“Because people near me get used.”
He looked at the old photograph resting on the bedside table.
“My brother did.”
Mercy followed his gaze.
“Michael?”
Dominic nodded.
“Adrian?”
“No. Different war.”
He paused.
“My father had enemies. Michael believed being a Rossi meant he was untouchable. I knew better. I should’ve protected him.”
“You were his brother, not his bodyguard.”
“In my family, there wasn’t much difference.”
Mercy said nothing.
Dominic’s eyes closed.
“I was supposed to meet him that night. I was late.”
“You think that makes his death your fault?”
“I know what it makes.”
“No. You know what guilt tells you it makes.”
He opened his eyes.
“You always talk to patients like this?”
“Only difficult ones.”
A knock interrupted them.
Emmett entered carrying a paper bag.
“Food.”
Mercy looked suspiciously at it.
“What did you do?”
“Bought dinner.”
“From where?”
“Town.”
“That’s forty miles.”
“Thirty-eight.”
“You sent someone thirty-eight miles for dinner?”
Emmett shrugged.
“You didn’t have much in the refrigerator.”
Mercy stared at him.
“You went through my refrigerator?”
“I was looking for eggs.”
“You’re all impossible.”
Emmett smiled.
“Dominic said the same thing when he was sixteen.”
Dominic groaned.
“Please leave.”
“No.”
Emmett sat down.
For the next half hour, something strange happened.
They ate.
Like normal people.
Mercy at the kitchen table.
Emmett across from her.
Nathaniel standing because apparently he had forgotten chairs existed.
Dominic eating soup from bed while pretending he wasn’t exhausted.
For thirty minutes, nobody discussed assassination attempts.
Then Nathaniel’s phone rang.
The normal moment ended.
He stepped outside.
When he returned, his expression was grim.
“Adrian made a move.”
Dominic put down his spoon.
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
Mercy looked between them.
Nathaniel continued.
“He’s telling people you’re dead.”
Dominic’s face became perfectly still.
“And?”
“He called a meeting for tomorrow.”
Emmett cursed.
Nathaniel said, “If you don’t appear, he takes control.”
Mercy stared at Dominic.
“You’re not going anywhere tomorrow.”
Nobody spoke.
She looked around.
“Why is everyone looking at me?”
Dominic’s expression almost amused her.
“Because they’re accustomed to me making that decision.”
“Then they can adjust.”
Nathaniel stepped forward.
“Miss Callahan, if Adrian consolidates power—”
“Does that magically heal two broken bones?”
“No.”
“Then he stays.”
Dominic said, “I have to stop him.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I don’t need to stand.”
“You absolutely need to not die.”
His jaw tightened.
Mercy leaned toward him.
“You want to know the fastest way to prove your cousin right?”
“What?”
“Kill yourself trying to prove you’re alive.”
Emmett looked at Nathaniel.
“She has a point.”
Dominic stared at him.
“You’re fired.”
“You’ve fired me seventeen times.”
“Eighteen.”
Mercy shook her head.
But the problem remained.
Adrian believed Dominic was dying.
Perhaps that was an advantage.
Nathaniel proposed a plan.
Dominic would appear remotely.
Secure video.
Proof of life.
Enough to disrupt Adrian’s claim without moving him.
Dominic hated it.
Mercy approved.
Which probably made him hate it more.
The meeting was scheduled for noon the next day.
That night, Mercy couldn’t sleep.
She sat in the kitchen staring at the plywood over the window.
Her mother’s old coffee mug sat in front of her.
It had a faded sentence on it:
NURSES CALL THE SHOTS.
Mercy smiled sadly.
“You would hate this,” she whispered.
“Your mother?”
Mercy turned.
Dominic was awake.
“How long have you been listening?”
“Not long.”
She carried her chair closer.
“You need anything?”
“Water.”
She helped him drink.
He watched her place the glass down.
“What was she like?”
“My mother?”
He nodded.
Mercy smiled.
“Terrifying.”
“That explains you.”
She laughed softly.
“She was kind. But not sweet. There’s a difference.”
“I know.”
“She believed caring about someone meant telling them the truth, especially when they didn’t want it.”
“Definitely explains you.”
Mercy looked at him.
“What was your mother like?”
Dominic’s face softened.
“Quiet.”
“Like you?”
“No.”
“You’re not quiet?”
“I was making a joke.”
“That was a joke?”
“Go away.”
She smiled.
Then he said, “She loved gardens.”
Mercy waited.
“She could grow roses anywhere. My father bought her a house with three acres, and she spent most of her time in a patch of dirt behind the garage because she said the soil there was better.”
“She sounds smart.”
“She was.”
“What happened?”
“Cancer.”
Mercy’s smile faded.
“How old were you?”
“Nineteen.”
Their eyes met.
A shared language neither needed to explain.
“I’m sorry,” Mercy said.
This time, it was sympathy.
Dominic accepted it.
“Me too.”
The next morning, Nathaniel prepared the secure video connection.
Dominic wore a clean black shirt over his bandages and sat propped upright.
He looked pale.
But dangerous again.
Mercy watched the transformation with fascination.
The injured stranger disappeared.
Mr. Rossi returned.
When the call connected, several men appeared on a screen.
Then Adrian.
He looked younger than Dominic.
Polished.
Handsome.
Smiling.
“Cousin.”
Dominic’s voice was cold.
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“You look terrible.”
“I’ve looked worse.”
“I heard you were dead.”
“You heard what you wanted.”
Adrian leaned back.
“Where are you?”
Dominic smiled without warmth.
“You should know. You paid Cal enough to tell you.”
The room on the screen changed.
Men looked at Adrian.
Adrian’s expression hardened.
Mercy realized Dominic had just accused him publicly.
Adrian recovered quickly.
“You’re injured. You’re confused.”
“I have Cal.”
Adrian stopped smiling.
“And his confession.”
Silence.
Dominic continued.
“You tried to kill me. You failed. Now you’re trying to inherit something that was never yours.”
Adrian leaned closer to the camera.
“You think this ends because you survived a car crash?”
“No.”
Dominic’s voice dropped.
“It ends because you made one mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“You brought civilians into it.”
Mercy felt Nathaniel look at her.
Adrian smiled again.
“Oh. The nurse.”
Dominic’s entire body went still.
Mercy felt cold.
Adrian continued.
“Mercy Callahan. Twenty-eight. Unlicensed. Lives alone in that charming little house your men have turned into a bunker.”
Dominic’s voice became terrifyingly calm.
“Say her name again.”
Adrian laughed.
“There he is.”
“Adrian.”
“You always did have a weakness for people who save things.”
The call went dead.
Nobody moved.
Mercy stared at the black screen.
Dominic looked at Nathaniel.
“Move her.”
Mercy immediately said, “No.”
Dominic turned.
“This is no longer a discussion.”
“You don’t own me.”
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
“But Adrian knows your name.”
“So?”
“So he will use you to reach me.”
Mercy folded her arms.
“And if I disappear with your men, what exactly does that tell him?”
Dominic had no immediate answer.
She continued.
“He already knows I’m here. Running makes me look valuable.”
Nathaniel slowly nodded.
“She’s right.”
Dominic glared at him.
Nathaniel ignored it.
“If she suddenly disappears under heavy protection, Adrian knows she matters.”
“She does matter.”
The words came out before Dominic could stop them.
Silence filled the room.
Mercy looked at him.
Dominic looked away first.
Then Nathaniel’s phone vibrated.
He read the message.
His face changed.
“What?” Dominic asked.
Nathaniel looked at Mercy.
“A vehicle just broke through the lower checkpoint.”
Mercy’s heart stopped.
A second later, gunfire erupted outside.
And this time, it didn’t stop.