Chapter 4 - The Gunman in the Garden**
Two masked men burst into the room, automatic weapons raised and glinting wickedly in the dim evening light.
"Don't move!" the lead gunman roared, his voice distorted by a tactical ski mask. "Marchetti! Hands behind your head! Drop to your knees!"
Time dilated into a terrifying, heart-stopping fraction of a second.
My brain didn't calculate the danger, the guns, or the fact that Elias was a trained killer who could easily snap these men like twigs. My only instinct—the primal, burning need that had grown inside my chest over three months of sharing his quiet world—was survival.
Without a single second of hesitation, I threw myself directly in front of Elias, spreading my arms wide to shield his body with my own.
"Get away from him!" I screamed, staring down the barrel of the assault rifle. "Shoot me instead! Leave him alone!"
Behind me, a low, guttural sound escaped Elias's throat—a sound of absolute, primal shock.
For a fraction of a second, the lead gunman laughed, adjusting his grip on the rifle butt. "Look at the little maid playing hero for the cripple. Well, sweetheart, obedience school is—"
The gunman never finished his sentence.
In a flash of motion so fast it defied human reaction, Elias’s hand shot out from behind my shoulder. A heavy, suppressed pistol appeared in his grip as if materialized from thin air. Two deafening cracks echoed through the glass sunroom.
Both armed men dropped instantly to the marble floor, neutralized with surgical, terrifying precision.
The smoke cleared in seconds. The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the frantic pounding of my own heart. I stood trembling, my hands still spread out defensively, waiting for the fatal blow that never came.
Strong, calloused hands wrapped around my shoulders, gently turning me around.
Elias was staring down at me, his face pale, his dark eyes wide with an emotion I had never seen on the Chicago crime boss before: sheer, unadulterated terror. Not for his own life—for mine.
"Are you insane?" Elias whispered, his voice shaking violently as his hands gripped my arms. "Did you lose your mind? They had loaded weapons, Maeve! You jumped in front of a bullet for a man you thought was paralyzed and helpless!"
"I didn't care if you were paralyzed!" I sobbed, the adrenaline crashing and leaving me hollowed out. "I didn't care about the money or the empire! I just... I couldn't watch them hurt you!"
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Elias pulled me against his chest so hard it knocked the wind out of my lungs. His arms wrapped around me like a steel cage, trembling as he buried his face in my hair.
"You fool," he choked out, his voice thick with unshed tears. "You absolute, beautiful fool."
