Chapter 9 - Reclaiming What Was Lost
The door swung open, and three men in rain-soaked tactical gear burst into the room.
At the center was Salvatore Moretti—an older man with a scarred face, cold, yellowed eyes, and a vicious smile that made my stomach turn. He held a silver revolver in his leather-gloved hand.
"Well, well," Salvatore purred, stepping over the threshold. "The little baker and the bastard child. Nico thought he was clever hiding you out here."
"Get away from us!" I screamed, backing up against the window, shielding Milo with my body.
"Don't worry, my dear," Salvatore sneered, raising his gun. "I'm not going to kill the boy yet. He's going to be my bargaining chip for the rest of Falcone's empire. But you? You're just collateral."
He aimed the barrel straight at my chest. I shut my eyes tight, pulling Milo into my chest, preparing for the end.
BANG! BANG!
The gunshots exploded in the room, but the pain never came.
I opened my eyes. Salvatore was staring down at his chest in shock, where two bright red spots were blooming across his coat. He crumpled to the floor like a sack of stones, revealing the figure standing behind him in the doorway.
Nico.
He was covered in rain and blood, his eyes wide with wild, unadulterated fury. A smoking tactical rifle was in his hands. Behind him, Lucian and three other guards quickly secured the hallway, clearing out the remaining intruders.
Nico dropped his weapon to the floor with a heavy metallic clatter and sprinted across the room, wrapping his arms around Milo and me. He pulled us both into his chest, trembling violently.
"I came back," Nico rasped, his voice breaking as he buried his face in my neck, smothering us in his warmth. "I came back for you. I heard the comms... I drove through the gates... God, Claire, I thought I was too late."
"You came back," I sobbed, sinking against him, feeling the solid, living warmth of his body. "You promised."
Milo looked between the two of us, reaching out a tiny, curious hand to pat Nico’s wet cheek. "Tall man cold?"
Nico let out a choked laugh through his tears, taking Milo’s tiny hand and pressing a gentle kiss into his palm. "No, little boss. I'm warm now. I'm safe now."
Lucian stepped into the doorway, stepping over the fallen figure of Salvatore. He looked at Nico and gave a single, solemn nod. "The Moretti syndicate is entirely dismantled, Don Falcone. The threat is gone. It's over."
Nico looked at Lucian, then down at the child in his arms and the woman clinging to his coat.
May you like
"No, Lucian," Nico said quietly, his voice clear and resolute. "The Don is dead. Effective immediately, you take over the family business. I am out."
Lucian smiled softly, bowing his head. "Understood, sir."
