Chapter 7 - THE SILENT GUARDIAN
Grant stood rooted to the spot for two agonizing seconds, his mind forced to choose between the powerful mother who had raised him to rule an empire and the exhausted, terrified woman lying in the hospital bed holding his true legacy.
The sharp click of his mother’s heels grew louder with every passing second. She was less than thirty feet from the door of Room 418.
"Grant..." Mara’s voice was a barely audible rasp, filled with seven months of buried pain and terror. "Please..."
Without another moment of hesitation, Grant moved with the swift, decisive power that had made him the most feared man in Chicago’s underworld. He shoved the small brass key deep inside the inner breast pocket of his tailored black suit jacket, right alongside his concealed sidearm.
He turned to June, his voice dropping into a low, commanding tone that left no room for error.
"Lock the side service door behind the station," Grant ordered smoothly. "Do not let anyone enter this room without my direct clearance. Is that clear?"
June nodded once, her face pale but resolute. "Understood."
Grant stepped over to the side of Mara’s bed. He reached out with his large, calloused hand and gently touched her forehead, brushing a strand of damp brown hair away from her pale face.
"I am not going anywhere," Grant promised softly, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she hadn't seen since before the betrayal accusations. "No one touches you. No one touches my sons."
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Mara let out a long, shaky breath, her hands slowly relaxing their grip on the pink bedsheets as she nodded once.
Grant turned around, straightened his black tie, buttoned his suit jacket, and stepped out of Room 418, pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind him with a firm, silent latch.
