Leila’s heart raced as the doors to the emergency room swung open. The figure that stumbled through the entrance was a sight she could hardly process. Blood soaked the front of his shirt, and he looked disoriented, his face bruised and battered.
“James!” she cried, leaping to her feet.
But as he staggered closer, she realized it wasn’t James. It was one of Marcus’s men, a grimace of pain etched across his features as he raised his gun weakly, pointing it in her direction.
“No!” Leila shouted, instinctively ducking behind a nearby nurse’s station as the man fired a desperate shot.
The bullet ricocheted off the wall, sending sparks flying. Leila’s heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she scrambled for cover. Panic washed over her—this was supposed to be a
