Chapter 5 - The Safehouse in the Storm
The panic room was silent, lit by dim emergency LEDs, fully equipped with medical supplies, satellite comms, and monitoring screens displaying the estate grounds.
On the screen, my security force was systematically neutralizing the remaining Moretti hitmen in the courtyard. The threat was suppressed, but the breach meant one thing: the Long Island mansion was no longer secure.
Hannah sat on a leather sofa, unbuckling the tactical baby carrier. She was trembling violently now, the adrenaline fading, leaving her pale and gasping for air.
"Shh, it’s okay," I said gently, sitting beside her. I helped her lift Leo out of the harness. The baby was surprisingly calm, looking up at us with big, curious dark eyes that matched my own.
"I hit a man with an iron rod," Hannah whispered, staring at her hands. "I... I’ve never hurt anyone in my life."
"You protected my son," I said, taking her trembling, cold hands into my warm ones. "You saved his life for the second time in two weeks. You are the braves woman I have ever met, Hannah."
She looked up into my eyes, her breath catching. For the first time, the distance between employer and employee dissolved entirely. We were just two broken people, bound by grief, blood, and a shared vow to keep a tiny child alive against a hostile world.
"They'll never stop coming for him, will they?" she asked softly.
"They will stop when I destroy every single one of them," I replied, my voice turning to ice. "Tomorrow, we move to my private island off the coast of Maine. No one knows the coordinates. You and Leo will be safe there while I clean the streets of New York."
"No," Hannah said firmly, her tone startling me.
I raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"I’m not staying behind on an island while you put yourself in danger, Lorenzo," she said, using my first name for the very first time. Her dark eyes burned with resolve. "If they want Leo, they have to go through you and me together. I am not losing another child. And I am not letting Leo lose his father."
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I stared at her, mesmerized by the sheer strength hidden beneath her soft exterior. Sophia had been gentle, refined, and quiet. Hannah was a survivor who had walked through the fires of hell and come out forged in steel.
"Very well," I said, a rare, genuine smile touching my lips. "Then we fight together."
