Chapter 3 - Blood on the Marble
Three days passed in a strange, suffocating rhythm.
Leo was thriving. His cheeks grew plump, his small body gained strength, and he began to stay awake for short stretches after feedings, tracking Hunter's movements with big, curious brown eyes. For Hunter, those quiet moments were a lifeline. Whenever she held the infant, the phantom agonizing grief over her daughter Lily receded into a manageable ache.
Yet, the mansion was coiled tight, like a spring ready to snap.
Lorenzo was rarely seen during the day. When he did return to the estate late at night, Hunter would hear his heavy, solitary footsteps pacing in the hallway outside her room. Sometimes he would enter silently, standing in the shadows of the nursery for long minutes, simply watching his son sleep before disappearing back into the dark.
On the fourth night, the storm returned to Lake Como with violent fury.
Thunder shook the heavy stone foundation of the mansion, and lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the nursery in stark blue light. Leo was restless, squirming against Hunter's chest as she tried to soothe him back to sleep in the rocking chair.
"Shh... it's just the sky talking, little one," Hunter whispered, humming a soft, melancholy lullaby her own mother used to sing.
Suddenly, the lights in the mansion flickered once, twice—and died completely.
The nursery was plunged into pitch-black darkness.
Hunter’s blood turned to ice. Backup generators usually kicked in within three seconds in a house of this caliber. Five seconds passed. Ten seconds. Nothing but darkness and the howling wind outside.
Then came the sound.
It wasn't thunder. It was the sharp, unmistakable pop-pop-pop of suppressed gunfire echoing from the first floor, followed by muffled shouts and the heavy thud of falling bodies.
"No," Hunter breathed, her instincts kicking into overdrive.
She stood up instantly, wrapping Leo tightly in a fleece blanket and securing him against her chest with a silk sash. The contract with Lorenzo flashed through her mind: I protect him, you nourish him.
The door to her suite was suddenly thrown open. Hunter flinched, pulling a heavy brass desk lamp back like a weapon.
"Hunter! It's me!"
It was Marco. A harsh flash of lightning revealed his face—bleeding from a deep gash above his temple, his suit jacket torn, a heavy automatic pistol in his hand.
"We're under attack," Marco hissed, his breathing ragged. "Moretti sent a strike team through the lake access. They cut the main power grid and bypassed the outer perimeter. We have to move you and the boy to the safe room now!"
Before Hunter could step forward, a heavy burst of gunfire erupted in the hallway right behind Marco.
Marco spun around, firing three quick shots into the dark corridor. A man dropped with a heavy groan, but more footsteps were approaching fast. Heavy tactical boots. Multiple men.
"They're on the floor!" Marco yelled, turning back to Hunter. "Lock the secondary panic door behind me! Do not open it for anyone unless you hear Lorenzo's voice!"
"Marco, wait—!"
Marco slammed the heavy reinforced oak door shut. A fraction of a second later, the metallic thud of the deadbolts engaging echoed through the wood, followed immediately by the sound of Marco engaging the attackers in a desperate, point-blank firefight right outside her door.
Hunter backed away slowly into the dark nursery, her heart pounding in her ears so loudly it drowned out the storm. Leo began to cry, frightened by the sudden loud noises.
"Shh, Leo, please, baby, please be quiet," Hunter sobbed silently, retreating into the deepest corner of the room behind a thick mahogany wardrobe. She pressed her back against the cold stone wall, shielding the baby with her entire body.
Outside the door, the sounds of struggle grew horrifyingly intense. Shots, curses in Italian, the splintering of wood. Then, a heavy thud, followed by absolute, terrifying silence.
Hunter held her breath. A tear slipped down her cheek.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Slow, heavy footsteps approached the outside of her door.
"Check the room," a rough, gravelly voice spoke in Italian from the hallway. "The Don's heir is inside. Kill the maid, take the boy. Don Moretti wants the baby brought to him alive."
Hunter’s hands shook violently. They weren't here just to fight; they were here to take Leo.
A heavy boot kicked the door. The reinforced wood held, but the hinges groaned under the force. Another kick. The frame splintered.
Hunter looked around the dark room wildly for anything—a knife, a glass, a heavy object. She picked up a heavy marble bookend from a side table, her fingers tightening around the cold stone. She knew she couldn't outfight armed mercenaries. But if they wanted this baby, they would have to kill her first.
The door gave way with a violent crash.
Two tall silhouettes stepped into the room, their tactical lights cutting through the darkness, sweeping across the floor toward the wardrobe where Hunter hid.
"Find them," the lead man growled.
The beam of light flashed over Hunter's shoes.
"Over here—!"
Before the man could raise his weapon, a shadow materialized behind him from the broken doorway.
A brutal, sickening crack echoed through the nursery as Lorenzo Rossi drove a combat knife directly into the first attacker's neck. Before the second man could react, Lorenzo grabbed the mercenary's rifle, twisted it violently to break his arm, and slammed him face-first into the stone floor, finishing him with a single, precise shot from his sidearm.
It took four seconds. Four seconds of pure, terrifying, lethal efficiency.
Silence fell over the nursery again, save for the patter of blood dripping onto the carpet.
Lorenzo stood in the doorway, drenched in rainwater and blood, his chest heaving. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, his eyes burning with a terrifying, primal fury that didn't belong to a civilized man. He looked like an apex predator returning to his den.
"Hunter," Lorenzo growled, his voice thick with raw emotion.
Hunter stepped out from behind the wardrobe, trembling violently, holding the crying baby tight against her chest. "Lorenzo..."
Lorenzo dropped his weapon and closed the distance between them in two large strides. For a terrifying second, Hunter thought he was checking the baby. But instead, Lorenzo reached out and pulled both Hunter and Leo firmly into his chest, wrapping his heavy arms around them.
He was shaking. The ruthless Mafia Don, the man feared across Europe, was shaking as he held them in the dark.
"You're safe," Lorenzo rasped into her hair, his breath warm and frantic against her skin. "I've got you. I've got both of you."
Hunter felt the metallic tang of blood on his jacket, but for the first time since the lights went out, she felt her racing heart begin to slow. She buried her face into his shoulder, tears finally spilling freely as Leo's cries softened against their shared warmth.
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"They tried to take him," Hunter whispered through her tears.
"They failed," Lorenzo said, his voice dropping into a register so dark and cold it chilled the very air. He pulled back slightly, his blood-stained hand gently cupping Hunter's cheek, his gray eyes locking onto hers with terrifying promise. "And everyone involved in this will burn for it."
