I managed a few bites of the soup she'd heated, then pushed the bowl away. "I can't stop thinking about him lying there so still. He's always so... vital, so present. Seeing him like that..."
"I know," Laura said softly. "When Spencer was in that car accident last year, I thought I'd lose my mind. But James is strong. Stronger than most people realise."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the domestic normality of the scene almost surreal after the intensity of the hospital. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I found myself tucked into the guest bed, Veronica sitting in the chair beside me.
"Get some sleep," she said. "Real sleep. I'll wake you if there's any news."
For the first time in three days, I slept deeply, dreamlessly, my body finally surrendering to the rest it desperately needed.
I woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and the sound of voices downstairs. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was, then everything came rushing back. James. The hospital. The vigil I'd abandoned.
I was dressed and downstairs within minutes, panic driving me. "Has there been any news? Why didn't you wake me?"
Spencer looked up from his phone, relief clear on his face. "No change, but that's not necessarily bad news. Andrew stayed with him all night—he's fine."
"I need to get back there."
"After breakfast," Laura said firmly, setting a plate in front of me. "And before you argue, remember that I'm pregnant and hormonal, and Spencer will side with me regardless."
As if summoned by his name, Spencer nodded gravely. "She's terrifying when she's pregnant. I wouldn't risk it."
Despite everything, I found myself almost smiling. These people—James's family—had taken me in without question, cared for me when I couldn't care for myself. It was more kindness than I deserved.
An hour later, I was back in the ICU corridor, freshly showered and fed, feeling more human than I had in days. The security team had been doubled—Spencer's doing, no doubt—though Jake's credentials as James's business partner had gotten him through the checkpoints without issue.
I was approaching James's room when a familiar figure rose from one of the waiting area chairs. Tall, lean, with the same military bearing as James but moving with a slight limp. Marcel must have told him I'd returned—Jake had been coordinating with the security team since taking over the business.
"Your Highness." Jake Richards stepped forward, offering a respectful nod. "I don't know if you remember me?—"
"Jake." Recognition hit me immediately. "You were supposed to be my bodyguard originally. Before the climbing accident."
"That's right." His expression was serious, professional. "I wanted to speak with you about James, and about some recent developments."
I frowned. "What kind of developments?"
"Since Harrison's betrayal came to light, someone needed to step in and manage Banks Security Solutions. James had contingency plans in place, and as his former partner, I was authorized to take control if he was ever incapacitated." Jake paused. "I've been working with Spencer's office and the investigation team to piece together what James discovered."
"Incapacitated." The word sat bitter on my tongue. "Is that what we're calling this?"
Jake's expression softened slightly. "I know this is difficult. But there are things you need to know—about what James discovered in the weeks leading up to the gala."
He gestured toward a quieter area of the corridor. "About a month ago, Harrison approached James with what appeared to be intelligence about the Kozlov organization. Arms dealing, human trafficking, money laundering—it seemed like a legitimate investigation."
"But it wasn't."
"No. Harrison was feeding James carefully selected information, building toward that moment at the gala. James only realised the scope of Harrison's betrayal in the final week, when some of the evidence didn't add up." Jake's expression darkened. "By then, it was too late to back out. The gala was planned, the evidence was public, and James knew there would be retaliation."
"He used himself as bait." Understanding washed over me, cold and bitter. "He knew they'd try to hurt me to get to him."
"He knew, and he prepared for it. The real evidence he gathered in those final weeks—evidence of Harrison's treachery and the true scope of the Kozlov network—that's what led to the raids. Twelve countries, over two hundred arrests. The network is finished, Princess. Completely dismantled."
I absorbed this, feeling pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. "So it's over. Really over."
"Yes. The photographs, the blackmail, the threats—all of it's gone. James made sure of that, even knowing what it might cost him." Jake paused. "The investigation revealed the full scope of the conspiracy. Prince Dmitri, faced with evidence of his family's criminal connections, had withdrawn his marriage proposal and left Bellavista immediately. The Montenegrin royal family, horrified by the revelations, had publicly distanced themselves from the Kozlov network."
I looked toward his room, where he lay unconscious, possibly dying, and felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly knocked me over. Love and admiration and fury all tangled together.
"He should have told me," I whispered. "I should have trusted me with the truth."
