Page 76 of Beneath the Thorned Crown

And beside him—

Charles.

He’s crouched low, pressing a bloodied cloth to Jayden’s side, his suit jacket tossed aside, sleeves rolled up. His eyes snap up when he sees me, and for the first time in a long time, I see something in Charles’s face that unsettles me.

Helplessness.

"Boss," he exhales, voice tight.

But I don’t respond. I don’t think.

I move.

My knees hit the blood-slicked floor as I drop beside Jayden, ignoring the sickening squelch of it soaking into my pants. I don’t care. My hands reach for him automatically, pressing against his face, tilting his head up so I can see his eyes.

"Jayden," I murmur, my voice sharp, demanding. "Look at me."

For a moment, there’s nothing. Just the sound of his ragged breathing, the uneven rise and fall of his chest.

And then—

His eyes crack open, dull and unfocused, but they land on me.

And he cries.

Not the silent kind. Not the kind I’ve seen from men who know they’re about to die.

This is different. This is grief. This is regret.

"Boss…" His voice is shredded, barely a whisper.

I grip his shoulder, tightening my hold like I can somehow anchor him to this world. "Who did this to you?"

A shudder wracks his broken body, his fingers twitching against the bloodied cloth. His lips part, but only a strangled sob escapes.

Charles shifts beside me. "He’s been like this since I got here. He’s been trying to tell me something, but—"

Jayden gasps, his entire body seizing as another wave of pain rips through him. His head lolls back, exposing his throat, his pulse weak and thready.

"Jayden," I snap, shaking him slightly. "Who did this?"

His breath hitches.

And then, in a whisper so soft I almost don’t catch it—

"They… threatened my family…"

I inhale sharply.

His family.

He has two kids. A wife. A mother who still calls him mi hijo every time he picks up the damn phone.

He sobs again, his fingers digging into my sleeve, desperate. "I—I didn’t think they’d actually—fuck, I didn’t think—"

Charles curses under his breath, his hands moving frantically to keep pressure on Jayden’s side, but there’s too much blood. Too much damage.

I squeeze Jayden’s shoulder harder. "Who?"

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