Christ, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Wait. Is she…crying? She stops pacing abruptly and swivels to face me. A tiny sob leaves her and I feel it deep in my stomach, that proof of her distress. “What’s wrong?” I rasp. “I’ll fix it.” Her mouth drops open. “What’s wrong? I was standing in the kitchen with Helen having a cup of tea a-and some of your men rushed through from the living room saying…they said s-someone tried to assassinate you and—”
