Scars of the Syndicate

The estate was locked down for twelve hours while federal sweeps cleared the perimeter and clean-up crews secured the shattered glass.

In the master suite upstairs, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Leo was finally fast asleep, curled up between two pillows, exhausted from the terror of the attack.

Nora sat on the edge of the bed, gently stroking his hair until his breathing deepened into a calm, steady rhythm.

The door opened softly, and Luca stepped inside. He had washed the soot and sweat from his face, but his clothes were still creased, and his shoulders carried the heavy weight of a man who realized how close he had come to losing everything.

He walked over to the bed, looked down at his son, and then knelt beside Nora, taking her bruised hand in his.

"The doctor checked your shoulder," Luca said quietly, his thumb tracing the swollen purple bruise blooming across her collarbone from Marco's pistol strike. "He said it's a deep bone bruise. It's going to hurt for weeks."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it looks," Nora whispered, offering a tired, reassuring smile.

Luca shook his head, leaning his forehead against her uninjured hand, closing his eyes. "You jumped in front of a trained operative with a fireplace poker, Nora. You could have been killed."

"So could Leo," she replied simply, her voice unwavering. "He's my boy, Luca. Contract or no contract. Mother or stepmother. That doesn't change."

Luca looked up, his slate-gray eyes swimming with an emotion so deep, so painfully raw, that it took Nora's breath away. He gently pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck, holding her as if he were afraid she would dissolve into mist if he loosened his grip by a fraction.

"I spent my whole life believing love was a weakness," Luca murmured against her skin. "A liability my enemies could exploit. But watching you throw yourself in front of my son... I finally understand."

"Understand what?" Nora whispered.