I never imagined the most feared crime boss in Chicago would show up at my bedroom door drunk

I pulled back, the antiseptic wipe hovering in the air. "You what?"

"I paid the hospital bill. And I’ve arranged for the best specialists in the country to oversee his case."

"Why?" I asked, my voice rising. "I didn't ask for charity! I don't want to be in debt to someone like you."

Raphael stood up, his height intimidating even in his weakened state. "It’s not charity. It’s an investment. I want you to be free, Clara. I want to see what you’re capable of when you’re not spending every waking hour terrified of losing your brother."

"You don't get to save me," I whispered. "That’s my job."

"You saved me tonight," he countered. "We’re even."

The confession hung in the air—the debt, the manipulation, and the strange, twisted care he had for me. It was everything I had feared about him, yet, looking at the payment confirmation he pulled up on his phone, I couldn't find the rage I expected. I felt a terrifying sense of relief.

"You're using him to get to me," I accused, though there was no bite in it.

"I’m using my resources to ensure the only person who has ever been kind to me doesn't have to break her back for a paycheck," he admitted. "Is that a crime, Clara?"

"In your world? Probably."

He stepped closer, invading my space in a way that made my pulse jump. "I’m tired of that world. I’m tired of the kings and the servants. I just want to be... someone you can look at without seeing a murderer."