“No.”
“Good,” he said, with the exhausted certainty of someone who had hated Julian from the first handshake. “He had villain hair.”
A broken laugh slipped from me.
Then Miles saw Dante in the doorway.
His smile faded.
“Who’s that?”
“The reason I’m not married.”
Miles studied him.
Dante inclined his head once. “Miles.”
“Are you dangerous?”
“Yes,” Dante said.
Miles blinked.
I sighed. “He’s also the reason Julian can’t move you tonight.”
Miles looked at me, then at the papers clenched in my hand.
“What happened?”
I sat beside him and told him enough. Not everything. Not the details that would turn his face even paler. But enough to break the last pretty lie our father had left us.
Miles did not cry.
He stared at the window, where rain trembled against the glass.
“Dad sold my treatment?”
I touched his hand.
“He signed authority to Julian’s foundation.”
Miles swallowed.
“For money?”
I could not answer.
His fingers curled weakly around mine.
“I knew he didn’t love me like Mom did,” he said. “But I thought he loved you.”
That hurt worse than Julian’s grip.
Dante turned toward the door, giving us privacy, but Miles called after him.
“Mr. Romano.”
Dante stopped.
“If you’re using my sister, I’ll haunt you.”
A silence passed.
Then Dante said, “Fair.”
Miles nodded once, satisfied, and sank back into the pillows.
A doctor entered twenty minutes later. Not Miles’s regular doctor. This one was a woman with silver hair, sharp glasses, and a calm expression that did not bend under Dante’s presence.
“Miss Whitmore,” she said. “I’m Dr. Renata Vale. Your brother’s care has been transferred out of the Crowe Foundation network. For tonight, he is stable.”
“For tonight?” I repeated.
She glanced at Dante.
Dante said nothing.
Dr. Vale folded her hands.
“Miles needs a treatment protocol the Crowes were blocking. It exists. It is legal. It is expensive, and there is a waiting list. Mr. Romano has secured access.”