The room grew instantly darker, illuminated only by the green glow of the security monitor.

Outside, the muffled thuds of bullets hitting the steel plates echoed through the walls.

We were sealed in, but we were trapped.

“Dr. Patel,” Roman breathed, his eyes closed. “Call him. Private line.”

“I’ll call him,” Mara said, already reaching for the landline on the desk.

I knelt beside the sofa, tearing Roman’s shirt open to look at the wound.

The bullet had torn through his side, leaving a ragged, oozing hole near his hip.

“He’s losing too much blood,” I said, looking up at Mara.

“The doctor is on his way,” Mara said, her hands shaking as she held the receiver. “He was already at the gatehouse.”

Roman’s hand reached out, grabbing my wrist with a grip that was surprisingly weak.

“Lena,” he whispered, his eyes opening slightly. “The ledger. Don’t let Elias find the ledger.”

“I have it,” I lied, wanting to keep him calm. “It’s safe.”

“Your father,” Roman muttered, his voice fading. “He knew. He knew about the medical bills.”

“What medical bills, Roman?” I asked, leaning closer to his face.