Vivian's POV
The elevator doors parted with a soft chime, and Liam Simon stepped through them like he owned the entire hospital. His black tailored suit fit him with deadly precision, every line cut to perfection. Under different circumstances, the sight might have stolen my breath for entirely different reasons.
But right now, his presence filled the room with an energy that made my skin prickle.
He moved with that same terrifying composure I'd grown to recognize. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth wasn't a smile. It was something far more dangerous. Something that spoke of plans within plans, of moves already calculated three steps ahead.
Grace, who had been building up steam for another lecture about my poor life choices, went completely still beside my bed.
"Holy hell," she breathed, her voice barely audible. "Those tabloid photos really don't capture it, do they?"
