My ex laughed and asked "what happened to you?" pointing at my body—unaware I was six months pregnant with the mafia boss's son.

Inside the private suite, the deafening silence of thick velvet drapes and double-paned glass enveloped them. Roman immediately guided Tessa to a deep, oversized leather sofa, kneeling before her to unfasten the delicate straps of her evening shoes.

"Roman, you don't have to do that," she protested weakly, though the relief on her swollen arches was immediate.

"Be quiet," he commanded softly, lifting her foot and massaging the arch with warm, capable hands that had commanded armies of criminals just hours earlier. "You've been on your feet for an hour. Dr. Alvarez told you thirty minutes maximum."

Tessa sighed, leaning her head back against the leather cushions. "Dr. Alvarez is overly cautious."

"Dr. Alvarez knows that if anything happens to you or that boy, the city burns," Roman said without looking up, his tone entirely matter-of-fact.

He set her foot down and moved to the other, his touch remarkably gentle for a man with scars across his knuckles.

"Did Hughes hurt you?" Roman asked, his voice suddenly sharpening, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees. "When he grabbed your arm?"

Tessa opened her eyes and looked down at the dark crown of Roman’s head. "No. It was just his usual arrogance. He thought I was alone. He thought I was broken."

Roman stopped his hands, looking up at her with eyes like black fire. "You will never be alone again, Tessa. And anyone who looks at you and sees weakness is a fool digging his own grave."

The door to the salon clicked open. Marco stepped inside, holding a leather folder.

"Boss," Marco said, keeping his eyes respectfully averted from the couch. "The hospital board chairman, Dr. Sterling, is outside. He’s practically hyperventilating. He wants to know if there's any way to salvage the trauma pavilion grant."

Roman didn't stand up. He continued smoothing the fabric of Tessa’s gown over her knees. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him Dr. Vance makes the decisions regarding charitable trusts now."

Roman looked at Tessa, an eyebrow cocked in dark amusement. "Well, Dr. Vance? Does Dr. Hughes keep his license?"

Tessa took a deep, steady breath. The baby shifted again, a slow roll that made her press her hand over her abdomen. "Caleb is a good surgeon, Roman. Technically speaking. But he's a coward, and he falsifies post-op recovery records to keep his surgical success metrics high. He did it when we were dating, and he’s doing it now."

Roman’s jaw set into stone. "Then he’s not a doctor. He’s a liability." He glanced back at Marco. "Hand the audit files over to the state medical board tonight. Strip his credentials by dawn. And tell Sterling if Caleb Hughes is seen on St. Jude’s property tomorrow, the Vale Foundation buys the hospital and turns it into a parking lot."