Chapter 176

The next morning, the first ray of sunlight slipped quietly into the ward. Dominic opened his eyes almost instantly. Cold clarity returned to his gaze, sharp and alert, as if the weakness of the previous night had never existed. His memory followed just as quickly. He had collapsed in the underground auction hall. He had vomited blood. And the last thing he remembered, clearly, was falling toward Sloane. His brows knit slightly. He shifted, intending to sit up, and only then realized that his hand felt… warm. Something was in his grasp. Dominic turned his head. Sloane was lying beside the bed, her head resting near the edge, fast asleep. Her lashes cast faint shadows under her eyes, and her breathing was shallow but steady. It was obvious she hadn’t slept properly, only exhaustion could produce such deep, defenseless stillness. He froze for a brief moment. Then, carefully, he loosened his fingers and released her hand. Afraid of waking her, he moved with rare restraint, lifting the qui