Chapter 4 - THE SHADOWS OF CHICAGOBefore I could find the voice to answer him—before I could scream or pull the trigger—a soft, sleepy sound drifted down the hallway.
"Mommy?"
Liam’s small voice cut through the heavy silence like glass breaking.
Both of us froze. Anthony’s gaze snapped past my shoulder toward the hallway, his dark eyes darkening further with an intensity that terrified me.
"Liam, stay in the closet!" I shouted, panic surging through my veins.
But it was too late. Footsteps padded down the hardwood floor, slow and clumsy with sleep. A moment later, Liam appeared around the corner, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his dinosaur pajamas, clutching his stuffed elephant in his other hand.
He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the tall stranger standing in our living room.
For a terrifying, suspended second, the world stopped turning.
Liam looked up at Anthony. Anthony looked down at Liam.
It was like looking into a mirror across a span of thirty years. The same dark hair, slightly messy from sleep. The same sharp, aristocratic bone structure. And above all, those striking, unmistakable blue eyes staring out from a serious, unblminking face.
Liam didn't cry. He didn't run back to the bedroom. Instead, he did exactly what Anthony used to do whenever he walked into a board meeting that wasn't going his way: he crossed his little arms over his dinosaur shirt, furrowed his brow, and gave the intruder a cold, critical once-over.
Anthony’s breath caught in his throat.
It was the first time I had ever seen Anthony Russo—the ruthless king of Chicago's underground, the man who controlled millions in cash and blood—look completely, utterly undone.
He slowly knelt down, ignoring the damp floor, ignoring the cheap rug, ignoring everything except the little boy standing three feet away from him.
"Hey, buddy," Anthony said, his voice cracking slightly—a sound I had never, ever heard come out of him before.
Liam didn't answer. He turned his head and looked at me, his blue eyes wide with confusion. "Mommy, who is this tall man? Is he here to fix the heater?"
I swallowed hard, stepping forward to pull Liam back, but Anthony raised a single hand, stopping me without even looking at me. His eyes never left his son.
"No, Liam," Anthony whispered, reaching out a slow, cautious hand toward the boy, as if he were approaching a wild animal that might bolt at any second. "I'm not here to fix the heater. I'm... an old friend of your mom's."
Liam looked at Anthony’s outstretched hand, then slowly reached out and touched Anthony’s fingers. The contrast was heartbreaking: the large, scarred, powerful hand of a mafia boss beside the tiny, soft hand of a three-year-old boy.
"You have eyes like mine," Liam observed solemnly.
Anthony let out a shaky, broken breath that sounded almost like a laugh. "Yeah, buddy," he murmured, his thumb gently brushing the back of Liam's hand. "I guess I do."
From down the hallway, the sound of soft crying echoed. Luna had woken up too.
"Mommy?" her small voice drifted out. "Liam? Where are you?"
Before I could move, Anthony stood up. His face had hardened again, but the vulnerability in his eyes was gone, replaced by something much more dangerous, much more absolute. He looked at me, and in that look, I knew the game was over. I had lost.
"Pack your bags, Eliza," Anthony said quietly, turning to face me as he scooped Liam up into his arms with an instinctive, natural ease that made my heart ache. Liam didn't even protest; he just rested his head against Anthony's broad shoulder, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes.
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"I'm not going anywhere with you," I said, my voice shaking with desperate defiance. "You can't just barge in here and—"
"I didn't ask your permission, Eliza," Anthony interrupted, his voice dropping into that cold, absolute authority that had built his entire empire. He walked toward the front door, pausing with his hand on the knob to look back over his shoulder. "We are going home to Chicago. Both of you. And if you think you can run from me a second time, try walking out the front door right now and see how far you get before my men put you back in the car."
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