THE PARALYZED MAFIA KING WAS ABANDONED AT THE ALTAR—UNTIL A PENNILESS MAID TOOK HIS HAND AND MADE SIX HUNDRED ENEMIES BOW

Late that evening, the adrenaline of the day finally faded, leaving Naya utterly exhausted.

She walked past Devan’s private quarters on her way to the east wing. His door was slightly ajar. She paused, intending to keep walking, but a muffled, frustrated sound made her stop.

She pushed the door open slightly.

Devan was sitting on the edge of his bed, his wheelchair parked nearby. He had managed to remove his jacket and tie, but he was struggling fiercely to untangle a knotted shoelace on his stiff, unmoving leg. His jaw was clenched tight with sheer, humiliating frustration.

Naya didn't announce herself. She walked into the room, knelt quietly at his feet, and began working the knot loose.

Devan stiffened, his hands gripping the mattress.

“Get out,” he snapped, his voice sharp with wounded pride. “I didn't ask for your help.”

“I know,” Naya said calmly, not looking up. She deftly untied the lace and slipped the heavy leather shoe off his foot. “But watching you fight a shoelace seemed like a waste of your energy.”

“I am not an invalid for you to nurse.”

Naya placed the shoe aside and looked up at him. She saw the raw, agonizing vulnerability in his eyes—the fierce mafia king reduced to battling his own broken body in the dark.

“I didn't drop out of nursing school because I was bad at it, Devan,” she said softly. “I know what nerve damage looks like. I know what muscle spasms do. You don't have to hide the ugly parts of this from me.”

Devan stared at her, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Camilla couldn't stand the sight of it,” he whispered, the confession tearing out of him before he could stop it. “She looked at me like I was a corpse that hadn't finished dying.”

Naya reached up and rested her hand gently over his knee. She couldn't heal him, but she could ground him.

“Camilla is an idiot,” Naya said firmly, meeting his gaze. “I don't look at you and see a broken man. I look at you and see the most dangerous man in this city. A wheelchair doesn't change who you are.”

Devan’s eyes darkened, the hazel flashing with something intense and overwhelmingly heavy. He reached out, his hand wrapping gently around the back of her neck, his thumb brushing her pulse point.