Chapter 440

Chapter 440:

Eliza sat on the sofa, a blanket draped over her legs. Azalea was in the kitchen, making tea with shaking hands. Kieran stood by the window, peering through the blinds. He hadn’t moved in an hour.

Eliza’s phone buzzed — not her personal one, but the hardened satellite device. The screen flashed: SECURE CHANNEL — INCOMING.

She hesitated, then answered. “Hello p>

Kane appeared at her elbow. “Ma’am,” he said quietly. “Jeannine is routing a call through a secure relay. It’s Bella Rose. She claims it’s a medical emergency related to the Boss. Jeannine wants you to hear it. We’re monitoring p>

𝖮𝘳𝗴𝘢𝘯𝘪𝗓𝗲 𝘺𝗼𝘶r 𝘭𝗂𝘣𝗋𝖺𝗿𝘆 o𝘯

“Bella?” Eliza sat up, eyes wide. “Put her through p>

“Jeannine said — she said you might be able to help.” Bella’s voice was tight and strained. “I know this is insane, but I remember you talking once about your work — how you restored those rare anatomical atlases for the Morgan Library. You understand medical illustrations. And you understand complex damage p>

“The Vesalius collection,” Eliza murmured, remembering the delicate work. “What is this about, Bella p>

“I have a friend,” Bella said. “He has severe nerve damage. From toxins. It’s affecting his lower body — motor function. And other things p>

Eliza’s grip on the phone tightened. “Is this about Dallas p>

A long pause.

“No,” Bella said. It was a terrible lie. “Otis — my cousin. But the symptoms are complex. Can I send you the scans? Maybe you can see something the doctors are missing? A pattern in the decay p>

“Send them,” Eliza said softly.

She hung up.

Nerve damage. Toxins. Lower body.

She looked at Kieran.

He was shifting his weight, leaning heavily on his right leg and sparing the left.

“Kieran,” she said.

He turned. The goggles hid his eyes, but she felt his full attention.

“Can you bring me a glass of water p>

He nodded and walked to the kitchen.

Eliza watched him. The limp was subtle — he hid it well. But there was a stiffness in his hip, a hesitation before he put weight on his left foot.

He came back with the water and held it out.

Eliza reached for it. Instead of taking the glass, her fingers brushed against his gloved hand.

He flinched — a sharp, violent recoil, as though she had burned him. Water sloshed over the rim and splashed onto the floor.

“Sorry,” Kieran said quickly. His voice modulator cracked slightly on the word.

“You’re jumpy,” Eliza said, staring at the mask. “For a professional p>

“Reflexes,” he muttered. He set the glass down and backed away.

“Your leg,” Eliza said. “Does it hurt p>

“Old injury,” Kieran said.

“My husband had shrapnel wounds in his leg,” Eliza said. “From Syria p>

Kieran went rigid.

“Lots of guys have shrapnel wounds, ma’am p>

“Do lots of guys flinch when I touch them?” Eliza asked.

Kieran didn’t answer. He turned back to the window.

“Get some rest, ma’am. I’ll take the first watch p>

Eliza lay back, but she didn’t close her eyes.

She watched the shadow of the man by the window. The way he tilted his head. The way he clasped his hands behind his back.

It was him. It had to be him.

Message from Noa: Hope you have a great Tuesday dear readers, God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. p>