This chapter is dedicated to Grace_y. Thank you so much, Grace, for your unwavering support.
.....
"Elias?" Dominic's voice barely lifted, yet the air in the room changed.
Ronan nodded once, his expression steady, though his shoulders stiffened as if bracing himself for impact. "Yes."
Dominic's eyes didn't move for a long moment. The name echoed quietly. He sat very still, his hands on the edge of his desk, and his gaze fixed on nothing.
"I arranged for his burial back in Italy," he said finally, his tone quiet but taut.
"You did," Ronan admitted, "but I already had him flown back to London for surgeries. The gunshots were enough to kill him, yes but I couldn't let his seven percent chance of survival go to waste. I placed him under medical watch. He's been in a coma for three years, with no sign of recovery."
Dominic's head lifted slowly, his stare cold and deliberate.
Ronan continued, though his voice lowered now. "He woke up a month ago. He's stable. He's in New York now."
