Chapter 6 - The Architect of Ashes
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That night, the silence in the penthouse was thick and heavy. Vincent couldn't sleep. The pain medication made him restless, but he refused the heavy sedatives, terrified of losing control of his mind in the dark.
I sat by the reading lamp, charting his vitals. He watched me. For a man who avoided all human contact, his gaze was intensely piercing.
“Why didn't you flinch?” Vincent asked suddenly. His voice broke the quiet rhythm of the heart monitor.
“When Marco insulted me?” I asked, not looking up from my chart.
“When I yelled at him. When I threw the glass. Most people are terrified of me, Nora. Even before the fire, they feared what I could do. But you look at me like I’m just a man.”
I set the pen down. “In a hospital gown, bleeding on a mattress, you are just a man, Vincent. And as for the insults… I’ve been overlooked and mocked for my appearance since I was twelve years old. A mobster making a crack about my weight isn't going to break me.”
Vincent frowned, his gray eyes darkening. He looked at me—really looked at me—in a way that made my skin suddenly feel entirely too warm. “They mock you because they are blind. You are beautiful. And you are braver than any soldier in my syndicate.”
I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. I quickly stood up, grabbing the blood pressure cuff to deflect the sudden intimacy.
“I need to check your vitals,” I murmured.
“It was Elena,” Vincent said quietly, ignoring the cuff. He was staring at the ceiling now. “The hit two days ago. The shooters who put these bullets in me. Silas tortured one before he died. They were sent by her.”
I froze. “I thought she vanished eleven years ago.”
“She did. But she’s back in Chicago,” Vincent’s voice turned dangerously cold. “She knows I survived. She knows I built an empire. And she wants to finish the job she started at the lake house.”
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He looked at me, the vulnerability returning to his eyes. “She knows my weakness, Nora. She knows I can't be touched. She knows fire paralyzes me. If she comes for me… I can't fight back.”
“You won't have to,” I said fiercely, stepping closer to the bed. “You are not alone in that room anymore, Vincent.”
