Chapter 9 - The Final Reckoning
Rostov stared at the tablet in horror, the reality of his total ruin crashing down upon him in a single second. The Bratva boss lunged forward with a desperate, blind fury, reaching for the concealed pistol beneath his trench coat—
Bang.
A single shot rang out.
It wasn't Julian. Marco’s tactical rifle discharged with pinpoint precision, the bullet shattering Rostov’s right shoulder. Rostov screamed, stumbling backward against the bookshelf as blood soaked through his coat. He hit the floor hard, clutching his ruined arm.
"Get him out of my house," Julian commanded quietly, never breaking eye contact with the bleeding man. "Dump him outside the nearest federal precinct. Let the authorities handle what’s left of him."
The guards dragged Rostov out, leaving a faint streak of red across the hardwood floor before the double doors slammed shut once more.
The silence returned to the library—heavier this time, thick with the lingering scent of gunpowder and adrenaline.
Julian turned around, walking slowly toward Simone. His expression was a mask of controlled intensity, but his hands trembled slightly as he reached out, gently cupping her face.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically raw.
Simone looked up into his dark, troubled eyes. She reached up, placing her uninjured hand over his. "I'm fine, Julian. You taught me well—numbers and contingencies."
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Julian let out a long, ragged breath, pulling her against his chest in a fierce, protective embrace. "I brought you into this world of violence, Simone. I swore I would keep the shadows away from you."
"The shadows were already there, Julian," she whispered against his shoulder, her arms wrapping securely around his waist. "Deline and Matteo were my shadows. You just gave me the light to see through them."
