Then danger came crashing back.
They were leaving a charity gala when headlights flared too close, too fast. Men stepped out, weapons glinting. Antonio’s men reacted instantly, but not before he pushed Vivian behind him — and took a blow meant for her.
Gunfire shattered the night. Her scream tore through the chaos.
Hours later, in the sterile light of a hospital room, she sat by his bed, her hand trembling against his.
“You could have died,” she whispered, tears finally spilling.
His lips curved faintly. “Better me than you.”
Vivian laughed softly through her tears. “Then I think we’re even.”
He reached for her hand, his voice rough. “Marry me.”
She blinked, stunned. “Is this another act?”
His gaze locked with hers — no pretense, no armor. “No. This is the only truth I have left.”
