“The proof,” I said. “The actual ledger of his transactions with the Chicago syndicate. The names, the dates, the bank accounts.”

If the rivals got their hands on it, they could destroy the Blackwells.

But if I got it first, I could end this.

Roman stirred on the couch, his eyes flickering open.

They were glassy with fever, but his gaze immediately locked onto me.

“Lena,” he rasped, trying to push himself up on one elbow.

I rushed to his side and pressed a hand against his chest to keep him down.

“Don’t move, Roman,” I said. “You have a severe fever.”

“I heard… the phone,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.

“It was my father,” I said honestly. “He knows you are vulnerable.”

Roman cursed under his breath, his hand finding mine and gripping it with surprising strength.

“We need to get you out of here,” he said, coughing. “The security… Elias…”

“Elias is outside,” I said. “But the estate isn’t safe anymore.”

“The perimeter is secure,” Roman insisted, though his head fell back against the cushion.

“Not if they know you are incapacitated,” I said. “They will bring everything they have.”