The private medical wing of the penthouse was filled with the steady beep of monitors and the faint scent of antiseptic as Aria sat beside Sofia’s bed, clutching her sister-in-law’s hand. Sofia lay pale and bandaged, her breathing shallow but stable after the brutal rescue from the consortium facility. The sight of the woman who had trained her, fought beside her, and called her sister fighting for her life made Aria’s heart ache with a fierce, protective love.
“You have to wake up,” Aria whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “We need you. I need you. You helped me become who I am.”
Dante stood behind her, his large hands resting on her shoulders, thumbs stroking slow, possessive circles. “She’s strong,” he murmured, his deep voice rough with exhaustion and concern. “Just like you. Sh
