Dr. Martinez's office was supposed to be safe.
Serena sat in the waiting room for her routine appointment, flanked by two of Dante's security guards. Everything had been planned, coordinated, secured. Which was why the attack, when it came, caught everyone off guard.
The lights went out first.
Emergency lighting kicked in, bathing everything in red. Serena heard her guards speaking rapidly into their earpieces, then the unmistakable sound of silenced gunshots.
Both men dropped.
"Hello, sweetheart."
Marcus stepped out of the shadows, no longer the polished politician she'd married. His clothes were wrinkled, his face gaunt, his eyes wild with desperation.
"Miss me?"
Serena's hand instinctively moved to her bump. Four and a half months along, she was clearly pregnant now. Vulnerable.
