Chapter 4 - The Sanctuary of GlassThe private wing of St. Jude’s Hospital was locked down within ten minutes of our arrival.
Roman’s men stood guard at every elevator bank, every stairwell, and even on the rooftop helipad. The Kane family owned the top three floors of the medical center, a sanctuary of glass and steel designed specifically for emergencies that the public could never know about.
I lay in the sterile white bed, a warm blanket finally stopping my violent shivering.
The monitors beeped rhythmically beside me. The doctor had already performed an ultrasound, assuring us that our baby girl was resilient. Her heartbeat was strong, a steady, rapid thumping that sounded like a war drum in the quiet room.
Roman sat in a chair beside the bed, his head resting in his hands.
His wet shirt clung to his muscular frame, and his dark hair was messy. For the first time since I had met him, he looked defeated. Not broken, but carrying a weight that no single man was ever meant to bear.
“Roman,” I called out softly, reaching my hand across the white sheets.
He immediately looked up, grabbing my hand and pressing it to his lips. “I’m here, Bianca. I’m right here. I will never leave your side again.”
“You need to change your clothes. You’re freezing too,” I said, trying to smile.
He let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I don’t care about the cold. I care about what they did to you. Look at you, Bianca... your beautiful hair.”
His eyes filled with a rare, devastating vulnerability as his fingers gently brushed against my bare scalp. The jagged patches where Vivienne’s maids had aggressively hacked away my hair were now cleaned and treated, but the emotional scar was raw.
“It will grow back,” I said, locking my eyes onto his. “They wanted to take my dignity, Roman. But they failed. Because I’m still here, and our daughter is still here.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening until the bone looked like it would break through his skin. “My father knew what Vivienne was capable of. That’s why he hid the true will in her own safe. He knew she would check every corner of the world except the one place she felt entirely secure.”
“The empire belongs to our daughter,” I whispered, the reality of the situation finally settling into my chest. “A girl from Queens’ daughter will inherit everything.”
“Yes,” Roman said, his voice dropping into that chilling register that made his enemies tremble. “And that is exactly why Vivienne tried to kill her tonight. If you had lost the baby in that storm, the succession would have reverted back to Vivienne’s chosen lineage.”
Before I could ask what he meant by 'chosen lineage,' the door to the private room clicked open.
Marcus stepped inside, holding a tablet. His expression was grim.
“Boss, we have a problem at the estate,” Marcus reported. “Vivienne is gone.”
Roman stood up instantly, his hand slipping from mine. “Explain.”
“A tactical team hit the western perimeter five minutes ago,” Marcus said, showing the security feed on the tablet. “They used military-grade flashbangs and smoke. They didn’t come to fight. They came for a extraction. They took Vivienne, and they took Clara.”
Roman’s fist slammed into the drywall, leaving a deep indentation. “Who authorized the team?”
Marcus looked at me, then back at Roman. “The signature on the encrypted comms belonged to Julian Kane. Your cousin.”
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The shadows in the room seemed to lengthen. Julian Kane—the golden boy of the family’s European operations, a man who had been waiting in the wings for years, watching Roman’s every move.
The battle lines hadn't just been drawn; the war had officially crossed oceans.
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