The hospital corridor lights glared harshly.

Sophia sat on the bench outside the operating room, fingers tightly interlaced. Her eyes remained fixed on the three crimson words—"Surgery in Progress"—as her heartbeat threatened to burst from her chest.

With a click, the surgical light switched off.

The doctor pushed through the doors. "The bullet only grazed him. No bone damage. The wound’s been stitched."

Sophia exhaled sharply, only then realizing her back was drenched in cold sweat.

In the hospital room, Ethan reclined against the headboard, his face as pale as parchment. Sophia carefully helped him sip water, watching the pill swirl in the glass.

"Does it hurt?" she asked softly.

The corner of his mouth lifted. "Not when you're here."

When the nurse entered to administer an IV, Sophia noticed the jagged wound on his arm. A thought struck her. "This is the third time this year."

"Hmm?"

"You’ve had terrible luck." She frowned. "First the car accident, then the fall from the horse, and now this gunshot."

Ethan suddenly grasped her hand. "You’re my talisman."

Sophia scoffed. "Don’t be ridiculous. We were together when it happened."

"Because you broke up with me," he murmured, his voice low.

She froze. His dark eyes held something unreadable.

"What are you hiding from me?" she finally asked.

His lashes flickered. He couldn’t tell her—couldn’t reveal that Kyle Grant was the same man she’d once loved deeply, Vincent Laurent.

"Nothing." He turned his face away.

Sophia sighed, adjusting the IV drip. "Get some rest."

"Don’t go." His grip on her wrist was startlingly strong.

"I won’t." She smiled faintly. "Since when are you so clingy?"

"Let’s have another child." His voice was rough. "If we do, you won’t leave me."

Her smile stiffened. The child they’d lost remained an unhealed wound.

She stood and walked to the kitchenette, her frame as thin as paper. Ethan watched her, struck by the irrational fear that she might vanish at any moment.

He’d never known love could make a man so insecure.

When his assistant arrived with updates on the case, Sophia was simmering congee. The robber was a repeat offender, but the mysterious black car had left no trace.

"Keep digging," Ethan ordered coldly. He had to find those responsible before they harmed Sophia.

Later, seeing the toothpaste neatly squeezed onto his brush, warmth flickered in his chest. She didn’t love him, yet she noticed every detail.

"Are we back together?" he asked abruptly as they settled in for the night.

Sophia stayed silent.

"You don’t have to say yes," he pressed, voice tight. "Just don’t fall for someone else."

"Since when do you get a say?" She laughed lightly.

"I’ve always been this possessive." In one fluid motion, he pinned her beneath him, capturing her lips. Sophia struggled, careful not to jostle his injury.

"Ethan!" Her cheeks flushed with anger.

"This is called persuasion." He smirked at the pink tingeing her ears.

By midnight, Sophia woke overheated. The injured man had crowded onto her narrow bed, his arm trapping her hair. Without hesitation, she kicked him back to his own side.

Dawn’s doorbell shattered the quiet.

Victor Sullivan stood at the threshold, his expression darkening at the sight of Sophia before forcing a smile. "Thank you for taking care of Ethan, Miss Laurent."

She arched a brow. Had the old fox changed his stripes?

Her smile was equally insincere. "Ethan insisted I stay. Says the pain vanishes when I’m around. Even after the divorce, he’s still this clingy. It’s exhausting, really."

Victor’s face turned thunderous.

"He also called me his talisman." Sophia batted her lashes. "And look—the moment I’m not with him, disaster strikes."

The old fox’s eye twitched. Inside, Sophia mentally raised a victorious fist.