Marcus's POV
The shooter's rifle scope was still visible from the penthouse window.
Marcus could see it. Could calculate the trajectory. Could understand exactly how close the bullet had come to ending everything. One inch to the left and Grace would have been dead on a Manhattan street in broad daylight.
He'd reviewed the footage seventeen times. Seventeen times watching the moment the shot missed by barely anything. Seventeen times feeling his entire world collapse and then reassemble when she survived.
Now he was sitting in his office at 3 AM cataloging every possible threat scenario.
Marcus had built security systems before. He'd protected buildings and operations and money. But this was different. This was protecting the one person who mattered more than his own survival. This was protecting Grace.
