Page 65

Leonid watched as his men breached the house. They moved like the seasoned tactical unit he’d relied on before, helmet cameras streaming every detail to his tablet.

The lead man swept the first room, weapon still holstered. Not yet. Only if necessary.

“We’re inside,” came the low report through the mic.

“Be careful with her,” Leonid warned sharply. “I don’t want her damaged.”

“Yes, sir.” The guard’s voice was steady, his movement precise.

Then gunfire cracked through the feed. The camera jolted violently, and the lead man went down.

Leonid leaned closer, breath quickening, as the others went deeper into the hall. Moments later, his Madelaine appeared, angry, confused, restrained between two men.

“Ah, my dear,” he whispered, stroking the screen as though she could feel his touch. “Soon you will be mine.”

But then one of the guards at her side dropped without warning. No movement. No breath.

Impossible! These men were the best in the world!

The angle shifted wildly. Another guard fumbled for his weapon, but he dropped before his gun cleared the holster.

“What is this?” Leonid demanded, his voice cracking, his grasp making the tablet tremble. He watched helplessly as Madelaine broke free, running toward someone off-screen. Toward safety. Toward him.

And then Paulo Ruffino stepped into view of the camera, his dark eyes locking on Leonid through the lens. A deliberate pause. A silent declaration. Then the feed went black.

“No!” Leonid bellowed, shaking the tablet, desperate for one more glimpse of her. “Bring her back!” But the screen stayed dark.

He hurled the device against the wall, his chest heaving. Slamming the morphine button, he felt the warm rush flood his veins. Not from pain, he couldn’t feel much anymore, but from habit. From craving.

Just one more erection. One more time. That was all he needed before the end. And it would be with her. Madelaine would be at his side, his legacy injected into her lovely body.

“Nurse!” he barked, hammering the call button. No one came. “Peter!” he bellowed weakly, but the walls swallowed his voice.

At last, the door opened. A man in black entered, his expression bland and indifferent.

“Everyone is gone,” the stranger explained quietly.

Leonid’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? I have staff everywhere!”

The man shook his head. “No. Mr. Ruffino explained their last day was yesterday. You are not to be disturbed.” With that, he turned and walked out.

Leonid stared, disbelief choking him. Alone? Impossible. He hadn’t been alone in decades. Since he’d made his first million, there had always been staff, an army of them, all eager to serve, to obey, to exist only for his comfort.

He jabbed the call button again. Nothing.

His voice broke as he shouted for them. Maids, nurses, Peter, anyone! But the house remained silent.

Silence. For the first time in his life.

It terrified him.

Epilogue

Madelaine walked down the long aisle, beaming from ear to ear. The roar of applause echoed around her, but her eyes found the only sight that mattered. Paulo and little Jacob, both waving and cheering like maniacs. Paulo was lifting Jacob’s little arm, their two-year-old bouncing with excitement, curls dancing as he shouted something she couldn’t hear.

“Madelaine Ruffino, magna cum laude, juris doctorate.”

As her name rang through the speakers, pride swelled in her chest. She climbed the stairs, crossed the stage, shook the hand of the university president, then the dean of the law school. A few other officials extended hands. She took them politely, though she couldn’t have named a single one. Her gaze kept straying back to the two most wonderful men in her life.