Chapter 6 - The Siege of Lake Forest
For two excruciating hours, the small party inside the panic room sat in breathless silence. The heavy reinforced walls muted the violent storm raging above, but every occasional tremor sent shockwaves through their nerves. Isabella wept quietly, cradling Matteo against her breast, while Lauren kept a watchful eye on the baby's oxygen monitor and monitored Isabella's rising pulse.
"He won't lose," Isabella whispered through her tears, looking at Lauren. "Alessandro has never lost a fight in his life. But Don Moretti is a rat. He doesn't fight with honor."
Lauren squeezed Isabella’s hand, her own mind racing. She realized then, with terrifying clarity, that she didn't just care for Alessandro Cassano as an employer or a benefactor. She had fallen in love with him—with his fierce loyalty, his quiet gentleness with his nephew, and the protective wall he threw up around those he cherished.
Suddenly, the red indicator light above the heavy steel door flashed green.
The hydraulic seals hissed, and the massive door slid open. Standing in the doorway, framed by dusty air and the faint smell of gunpowder, was Alessandro.
His suit jacket was gone, his white shirt torn and stained with soot and blood, but his dark eyes were bright and focused. Behind him, his men stood victorious, securing the hallway.
"It's over," Alessandro said, his voice husky with fatigue.
Isabella let out a choked cry and rushed forward, hugging her brother tightly. Alessandro held her for a moment, then looked over her shoulder directly at Lauren.
Lauren stepped forward, her hands trembling. Without thinking about protocols or boundaries, she reached out and touched his chest, checking for injuries. "You're bleeding," she breathed, her hands coming away red near his ribs.
"It's just a graze," Alessandro said softly, capturing her hand in his. His grip was warm and tight. "The Morettis failed. Don Moretti’s reign in Chicago ended tonight. My men are wiping out the last of his network as we speak."
He looked around the hallway, then down at the woman holding his hand with tears of relief in her eyes. "You're safe, Lauren. You're all safe."
Dr. Vane rushed down the hall with a medical kit to tend to Alessandro's wound. Lauren took charge immediately, refusing to let the older doctor handle the sutures. In the quiet of his private study, under the warm glow of a desk lamp, Lauren meticulously cleaned and stitched the graze on Alessandro’s ribs.
"You're very gentle," Alessandro murmured, watching her face as she worked.
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"I have to be," Lauren replied softly, pulling the thread tight. "Someone has to keep you from tearing yourself apart."
"I think," Alessandro said, reaching out to tilt her chin up so she had to look him in the eyes, "that someone has been you since the moment you yelled at fifteen doctors in Suite 404."
