All Chapters of Forged In Fire: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

CATARINAA week had passed since that night in the kitchen.A week of working side by side with Jameson, implementing strategies against the Russians that were actually working. A week of earning respect from his lieutenants, of feeling like I was finally being valued for my mind and not just my ability to kill.A week of stolen glances and accidental touches that lasted just a beat too long.A week of wanting things I'd never let myself want before.I was in the middle of reviewing intel reports in my wing when my phone buzzed.Marco: Family meeting. Your father wants you here. Now.I stared at the message, my stomach tightening.I'd been avoiding my parents since the gala—since my mother's horrified expression when she saw my dress, since my father's thinly veiled disappointment that I'd chosen to assert myself rather than play the obedient daughte

JAMESONI'd been standing guard for six hours straight.The nurses had stopped asking me to leave after the third time I'd refused. The doctor had given up after the second. Even the orderlies who came to check Cat's vitals had learned to work around me, adjusting monitors and IV bags while I sat in that uncomfortable chair, my hand never leaving hers.I was exhausted. The blood donation had left me weak and lightheaded, and I hadn't eaten anything since that morning. My body was screaming at me to rest, but every time I considered leaving, I'd look at Cat's bruised face and broken body, and the thought of walking away became impossible.She was sleeping now, her breathing steady and even. The swelling around her eye had gone down slightly, but the bruising had darkened to a deep purple-black that made my chest ache every time I looked at it.The door opened quietly, and I glanced up to see Grandfather stepping in

CATARINAI woke to the sound of steady breathing.Not my own—mine was shallow and careful, each inhale a reminder of my broken ribs.This breathing was deeper. Rhythmic. Peaceful.I forced my good eye open—the other was still swollen shut—and found Jameson slumped over the side of my hospital bed, his head resting on his folded arms near my hip.He was still here.He'd stayed all night.The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across his face. His dark hair was disheveled, falling across his forehead. There were lines of exhaustion around his eyes, tension even in sleep.This man—this powerful, commanding mafia heir who could have anyone bring him anything he wanted—had chosen to spend the night hunched over a hospital bed.For me.I studied him in the quiet morning light, my chest tight with something t

CATARINATwo days later, the doctor finally cleared me for discharge."Strict bed rest," he said for what felt like the hundredth time. "No strenuous activity. Keep the arm elevated. Follow up in one week.""I understand," I said, resisting the urge to roll my eye—the one that could actually open.The other was still swollen shut, a lovely shade of purple-black that made me look like I'd gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion.And lost.When the nurse wheeled me out to the hospital entrance, I was greeted by what looked like an entire mafia convention.My parents stood near the curb, my mother wringing her hands, my father looking like he'd aged a decade in the past few days. Marco was there too, his expression carefully neutral but his eyes sharp, assessing. Brendan Connelly stood beside Jameson, both men looking far too serious for a simple hospital pickup."Jesus Chri

JAMESONTrue to my word, I returned forty-five minutes later with two bags from Portillo's and a determination to finally have the conversation we'd been dancing around for weeks.Cat was exactly where I'd left her—propped up against the pillows in my bed, looking small and vulnerable in a way that made my chest ache.Her one good eye tracked me as I crossed the room, and I saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward when she spotted the bags."You actually got them," she said."I told you I would." I set the bags on the nightstand and carefully arranged a small tray across her lap, making sure it didn't press against her ribs. "Though I have to warn you—if you make a mess, I'll have to give you another bath."Her eye widened slightly.I leaned in, my voice dropping. "And I might even join you this time."The color that rose in her cheeks was worth every second of the ten