“No more,” I said, standing shakily. “You help my sister first.”

He made the call.

Within minutes, we were descending in an armored SUV toward the docks—territory controlled by the men who took Ava. Rain hammered the glass as his security prepared for war.

“She’s asthmatic,” I whispered. “If they keep her damp—”

“We’ll get her,” he said, cold and absolute.

They smashed through the gates. Money was dumped in the mud. Guns were raised. The men laughed—until suppressed shots dropped three of them where they stood.

Ava was dragged out.

Alive.

I ran to her, sobbing into her hair. She shook but she was breathing. Whole.

We left the cash behind and disappeared into the night.

Back at the tower, the deal resumed.

I warned him it would hurt.

“I don’t care,” he said. “Burn me.”

I poured everything into him.

He screamed. I bled. The room blurred.

Then he stood.

For the first time in three years, Elliot Crowe stood upright, shaking, terrified, magnificent.

He collapsed on top of me, breath ragged, eyes wild.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispered.

He kissed me.

I should have stopped him. I didn’t.

Reality returned quickly. He needed more. The healing faded. It wasn’t a cure—it was a charge.

And he panicked.

He locked Ava away when I refused.

That was when I understood.

He needed me more than I needed him.

I healed him again—but this time, I left a knot of energy buried deep in his spine. A switch.

At the board meeting, cameras flashed as Elliot walked in on his own two feet. Power returned to him instantly.

Then the betrayal came.

Police. Mob money. A setup.

He faltered.

They reached for me.

I triggered the switch.

The power detonated.

Windows rattled. Guards flew across the room. Elliot moved like a force of nature.

The room surrendered.

I collapsed.

When I woke, I was in a hospital. Ava was safe.

Elliot came in quietly, back in his chair.

“The surge burned it out,” he said. “I can’t feel anything now.”

I started to apologize.

He stopped me.

The criminals were gone. My debt erased. Five million dollars sat on the table.

He had resigned.

“I wanted to walk to feel powerful,” he said. “But when you fell… I realized power wasn’t what mattered.”

He took my hand.

“For the first time in years, I don’t feel trapped.”

I felt a faint spark stir in my chest.

“Give me time,” I said softly. “We can try again.”

He smiled.

“I’ll wait.”