Chapter 7 - The Safehouse
Within an hour, the estate was cleared. Marco was dragged away into the basement by Renzo’s men for interrogation, and the traitorous leak was completely isolated.
However, Vincent took no chances. By midnight, Mia and I were sitting in the back of a bulletproof black SUV, escorted by a heavy security detail. We were driven two hours out of the city to a secluded, high-security compound in the forested mountains of upstate New York.
The safehouse was a magnificent modern stone structure surrounded by tall reinforced fences and state-of-the-art surveillance systems.
Mia was fast asleep, wrapped in a warm blanket on the plush sofa in the main living room. I sat beside her, sipping a glass of iced water, watching the fireplace crackle.
The front door opened quietly, and Vincent stepped inside. He had changed into a dark sweater and jeans, looking less like a lethal mob boss and more like a strikingly handsome, tired man.
He walked over and stood near the fireplace, staring into the flames.
"Renzo finished the interrogation," Vincent said quietly. "Victor Vance paid Marco two hundred thousand dollars to orchestrate an insider hit tonight. If you hadn't caught him, Vance's men would have breached the estate by two in the morning."
I swallowed hard, looking over at my sleeping daughter. "Is it over?"
"Not yet," Vincent replied, turning his dark eyes toward me. "Vance knows the plan failed. He's cornered, desperate, and he will make one final, aggressive move before he flees the country."
"And us?" I asked. "Are we safe here?"
Vincent walked over, seating himself on the coffee table directly across from me. He reached out and gently covered my trembling hand with his large, warm palm.
"You and Mia are safer here than anywhere else on earth," he declared with absolute certainty. "I swear to you on my life, Elena, no one will ever touch either of you."
I looked down at our joined hands. "Why are you doing all of this for us, Vincent? We're just employees. I was just a housekeeper."
"You were never just a housekeeper," Vincent whispered, his thumb lightly stroking the back of my hand. "From the moment your daughter looked into my face and mocked me, and you stood up to me to protect her... you brought life back into a house that had been dead for ten years."
My breath hitched in my throat. The distance between us evaporated, the air suddenly charged with an intense, raw electricity.
"Vincent..." I murmured.
"I have spent my entire life surrounded by people who want something from me," he continued, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Power, money, protection. But you... you look at me and see a man. A man who desperately wants to keep you safe."
Before I could answer, Mia stirred on the sofa, letting out a soft toddler yawn. She rubbed her eyes, looked up, and spotted Vincent sitting right in front of us.
"Mr. Vincent?" she murmured sleepily. "Are we hiding from bad guys?"
Vincent instantly softened, turning his head toward her. "No, sweetie. We are just taking a vacation in the mountains."
Mia sat up, clutching her stuffed bear. "Can we build a snowman tomorrow?"
Vincent let out a soft, genuine laugh—a sound so rich and beautiful it made my heart ache. "If it snows tomorrow, Mia, I will build you the biggest snowman in the state."
Mia smiled happily, snuggling back into her blanket. "Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Vincent."
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"Goodnight, little one," he whispered.
He looked back at me, his eyes burning with an undeniable, fierce promise. We didn't say another word, but as the fire flickered in the quiet room, I knew my heart was no longer my own.
