"You are not booking that flight, Riley. End of story." Lucien’s voice hit the dining room like a heavy door slamming shut. I stopped right in the middle of picking up my crystal glass, my hand freezing in mid-air while staring at him in absolute disbelief. "What did you just say, Lucien?” I asked. “No, you don’t mean that.” "You heard me," Lucien said, his jaw tight as he set his silver fork down onto his plate with a sharp clack. "You are not going back to America. You are not stepping one foot inside that city, and you are definitely not going anywhere near Christian Blackthorne." "Lucien, a man is dying!" I raised my voice slightly, my chest heaving under my silk blouse. "They offered a hundred million dollars! That hospital—" "I don't care if they offer a billion dollars!" Lucien snapped, his eyes flashing with a rare, terrifying anger I hadn't seen in five whole years. "We don't need their blood money! You have your own hospitals and everything you could ever want ri
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