جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 78

*Grace’s POV*The grand ballroom of the Congressional Hall was an opulent nightmare. Towering gilded archways stretched toward ceilings painted with historical battle scenes. Massive crystal chandeliers cast a glittering, golden light over the room, reflecting off diamond necklaces, champagne flutes, and the polished brass buttons of high-ranking military officials. Every single conversation in our vicinity dwindled to a murmur the moment Alexander walked in. He didn't just enter a room; he claimed it. His presence was suffocating. Even among senators, ambassadors, and four-star admirals, Alexander Reeves was an apex predator who operated in a league entirely of his own. And I was trapped right in his orbit. True to my words in the foyer, I played my part. I stood beside him near the carved marble fireplace, holding a glass of sparkling water with both hands just to stop my fingers from trembling. Whenever a foreign dignitary or cabinet member approached, I offered a soft, reh

*Grace’s POV*It was 2:14 in the morning, and sleep had never felt further away.It was not just the memory of the terrace keeping me awake. It was not just the ghost of Alexander’s mouth hovering an inch from mine, or the raw rasp of his voice when he snarled, *“Damn the contract.”*It was a cold, suffocating weight sitting directly over my lungs. A terrible, heavy intuition had settled into my gut the moment we left the gala,a dark, sinking dread that whispered something was going to happen. I stood barefoot on the cold tile of the fortress kitchen, wrapping both hands around a tall glass of ice water. The fortress was completely silent. The only illumination came from the amber glow beneath the range hood, casting long, sharp shadows across the white marble island. *Thud.*A dull, uneven impact rattled the reinforced steel door connecting the private motor pool to the kitchen corridor. I jumped, water sloshing over the rim of my glass. *Click. Whir.*The door swung inward,

*Grace’s POV*The heavy doors parted with a soft hiss.A group of medical staff walked out into the corridor. Dr. Keller,the man I recognized as the chief surgeon who was in charge of my father's treatment,led them, flanked by another doctor in dark scrubs and two nurses, their blue surgical caps still tied behind their heads. My breath stopped entirely. In every hospital I had ever trained in, the rule was unwritten but absolute: you never saw the entire resuscitation team step out together unless the monitor was already dark. Beside the wall, Richard did not move. He stood motionless, his head bent low toward the floor, successfully sinking my heart furtherDr. Keller took several slow, heavy steps toward us. His eyes were red-rimmed, carrying a look of deep, crushing exhaustion. The nurses stopped just behind him, their hands folded in front of their aprons, looking at me with a quiet, careful sympathy that made the ground beneath my boots feel paper-thin. They were lookin

*Alexander’s POV*Forty-six hours. Forty-six hours since her legs gave out on the cold linoleum of the hospital corridor. Forty-six hours since her mind retreated behind an impenetrable, silent wall to escape the agony of a world without her father.The master suite was completely shadowed and my wife was lying peacefully in it.Heavy charcoal drapes sealed out the gray Virginia daylight, trapping the low hum of the portable telemetry monitor against the high ceilings. The air smelled of cedar, rain, and the faint, sweet trace of vanilla lotion clinging to her skin.She looked impossibly small beneath the heavy duvet. Her soft curls were spread across the white pillows, damp at the temples from cold sweat. Her face was washed of all color, pale as fresh snow, with dark, purplish shadows bruised beneath her closed eyes.She had not spoken. She had not opened her eyes. When the human nervous system suffered a blow so catastrophic that the soul could not bear it, it shut down. A d