Chapter 4 - SHADOWS IN THE KITCHEN
~1,100 words
The sound of shattering glass downstairs sent a shockwave through the quiet house.
Margaret appeared at the top of the stairs a second later, her face pale, clutching the wooden banister for support. """"What was that? Oh, God, is it—is it Reynolds?""""
""""Stay back,"""" I whispered fiercely, stepping out of the bedroom and positioning myself in front of the door to shield the boy inside.
Leo sat up in his bed, clutching the silver pocket watch to his chest like a shield. His big, dark eyes were wide with fear, staring at the doorway.
""""Sweetheart, who's down there?"""" the boy asked, his voice trembling.
""""It's okay, Leo,"""" I said, forcing a calm smile onto my face while my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. """"Everything is going to be fine. Stay right here under the covers.""""
Downstairs, a deep, gravelly voice cut through the silence.
""""Check the back door! Move, move, move! If he's here, he doesn't leave the house alive!""""
The blood drained from my face. That wasn't Reynolds. Those were professional enforcers—men belonging to the rival faction that had been warring with the Moretti syndicate for the past six months. They had tracked Luca here. The engagement dinner had been a trap from the start, or worse, someone inside the inner circle had leaked our location the moment we left the Chicago mansion.
Margaret let out a muffled sob, pressing her hands over her mouth. """"They found us... they followed you here.""""
""""Get inside the room,"""" I hissed, grabbing Margaret by the sleeve and pulling her past the threshold into Leo's bedroom. I slammed the door shut and pushed a heavy wooden chest of drawers against the handle just as footsteps began pounding up the staircase.
Creak. Creak. Creak.
The heavy boots were climbing the wooden steps two at a time.
Inside the room, Leo was shaking. He looked at me, then at his grandmother, and finally down at the silver watch in his hands.
""""Are we playing hide and seek?"""" the boy whispered, his voice heartbreakingly innocent.
""""Yes, buddy,"""" I said, kneeling beside his bed and taking his small hands in mine. """"We're playing the quietest game in the world. I need you to close your eyes, count to fifty in your head, and don't make a single sound. Can you do that for me?""""
He nodded bravely, squeezing his eyes shut.
Margaret crawled onto the floor beside the bed, wrapping her arms around the boy's legs, weeping silently into the quilt.
Outside the door, a heavy shoulder slammed against the wood.
The frame splintered with a loud crack, but the heavy chest of drawers held firm against the first assault.
""""Kick it again!""" a harsh voice snarled from the hallway.
Crash.
The door burst halfway open, splintering wood flying across the carpet. A large man in a black tactical jacket stepped through the gap, holding a suppressed pistol in his right hand. His eyes scanned the room, landing instantly on me standing between the bed and the shattered doorway.
He raised the weapon.
""""Step away from the kid,"""" the intruder growled.
My heart stopped. I threw my arms out wide, stepping forward to block his line of sight to the bed.
Before the man could pull the trigger, a dark shadow erupted from the shadows of the hallway behind him.
Luca Moretti moved with terrifying, predatory grace.
He slammed into the intruder's side, driving him hard against the drywall with a sickening crunch of impact. The pistol flew from the man's hand, skittering across the wooden floorboards and coming to a stop near my feet.
The intruder swung a heavy elbow, catching Luca across the jaw, but Luca didn't flinch. He grabbed the man by the collar of his tactical jacket, spun him around with brutal force, and threw him headfirst through the already broken doorway.
The man crashed heavily onto the landing outside, sliding down the wall and collapsing into unconsciousness.
Heavy silence fell over the hallway once more, broken only by the sound of Luca's heavy breathing.
He stood in the doorway, his black suit jacket torn at the shoulder, a small cut bleeding above his left eyebrow. He looked back into the room, his eyes scanning frantically until they landed on Leo, who was peeking out from beneath the edge of the quilt with wide eyes.
Luca exhaled a long, shaky breath, letting the adrenaline fade as he stepped into the room.
He knelt beside the bed, his large hands trembling slightly as he touched the boy's cheek.
""""You okay, son?"""" Luca asked, his voice rough and tender all at once.
Leo nodded slowly. """"Are you the prince?""""
A weak, painful smile touched the corners of Luca's mouth. He looked up at me, then at Margaret, before looking back down at the boy.
""""Yeah, buddy,"""" Luca whispered, pulling the child into a fierce, protective embrace. """"I'm the prince. And I'm never leaving again.""""
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Margaret buried her face in her hands, sobbing with a mixture of terror and overwhelming relief.
I picked up the fallen pistol from the floor, my hands shaking as I ejected the magazine and set it safely on the nightstand. The immediate danger had passed, but as I looked out through the broken doorway into the dark hallway, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: the war in Chicago was just beginning, and they knew who Luca loved now.
