Zo stood frozen under the harsh basement fluorescent lights, staring down at the shattered plastic container and the two insulin vials resting against his polished leather shoes.

Tessa was on her knees, her pale, trembling hands frantically scraping the spilled risotto back into the cracked plastic, tears blurring her vision as she choked back quiet sobs.

"Please, Mr. Rossi..." she whimpered, her voice breaking completely. "I only took what was left on the serving platters after the staff finished... I swear I didn't steal anything of value..."

Zo dropped to one knee. His large, scarred hand reached out and gently covered her cold, frantic wrist.

"Stop," he commanded, his voice unexpectedly soft.

Tessa flinched, expecting a blow or a harsh command to leave, but Zo carefully took the cracked container out of her hands and set it aside. He picked up the two insulin vials, holding them up to the light. The prescription label bore the name Lily Cole, Age 4. Attached to the vial box was a bright red past-due notice from a specialty pharmacy demanding an overdue payment of $3,200.

"Your daughter," Zo said softly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "She’s diabetic."

"Type 1," Tessa wept, covering her face with her hands. "Her father left before she was born when he found out she'd need lifelong medical care. I work three jobs, Mr. Rossi... I scrape by on double shifts, but the insulin prices went up again last month. I haven't eaten a proper meal in three weeks so I could buy her medicine."

Zo stared at her—at the dark circles under her eyes, her gaunt cheeks, and her bruised knuckles. In an empire built on violence, greed, and ruthless power, he was looking at pure, unadulterated devotion.

He picked up the faded one-eared stuffed rabbit, wiping a speck of dust from its plush head before gently placing it back into her olive canvas bag alongside the insulin.

"Get up, Tessa," Zo said, standing up and extending his hand to her.