Chapter 9 - THE RACE FOR SURVIVAL
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of recovery and retribution. While I stayed locked in the secure wing with the twins, ensuring the antidote flushed the remaining toxins from their systems, Nathan waged a merciless war on the streets of Connecticut.
The news channels were filled with breaking reports of "unprecedented organized crime violence." Warehouses belonging to the Maroni family burned to the ground. Their lieutenants were found dead. By the end of the second day, the head of the Maroni family was discovered hanging from a bridge. Nathan Coleman had sent a message to the entire underworld: Touch my family, and I will end your bloodline.
Inside the mansion, however, the heavy gloom of the past two years began to lift.
Jacob and Jonah woke up on the third morning with a ravenous hunger they hadn't displayed in months. Their eyes were bright, focused, and free of pain.
"Miss Emily?" Jonah asked, sitting up in bed and looking at a plate of pancakes I had brought up. "Are we better now? My legs don't hurt anymore."
"You're all better, sweetie," I smiled, fighting back happy tears. "The bad sickness is gone for good."
Nathan walked into the room just then, completely devoid of his armor. He wore a simple grey sweater and jeans, looking less like a mafia don and more like a father who had just been given his life back.
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The boys screamed in delight, scrambling out of bed. For the first time in two years, they had the energy to run. They tackled Nathan, nearly knocking him over. He caught them, burying his face in their hair, holding them so tight I thought he might never let go.
He looked up at me over their heads, a smile breaking across his handsome face—a genuine, radiant smile that completely transformed him. The war was over. The shadows were receding.
