Chapter 6 - Unbroken Instincts
Three weeks later, the Blackwood lakefront estate was under an uneasy truce.
The leaves along the shores of Lake Michigan had turned a vibrant, burning crimson before dropping into the churning gray water. Inside the mansion, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. The cold, austere museum of marble and silence was gone, replaced by the soft, chaotic warmth of life.
In the sun-drenched conservatory on the second floor, Lily sat cross-legged on a plush wool rug.
Her ribs had healed to a dull ache, though Dr. Evans had strictly forbidden heavy lifting. Across from her, Ethan sat upright, his left arm out of its rigid cast and now supported by a light, custom-fitted neoprene brace.
The boy was giggling—a pure, bubbling sound that bounced off the glass walls.
“No, no, Ethan,” Lily laughed softly, gently steering his right hand away from a delicate porcelain saucer. “We don't eat the puzzle pieces. Look. The lion goes here. See? Roar.”
Ethan clapped his small hands together, his gray eyes sparkling with untamed joy. “Roar!” he shouted, grabbing the wooden lion and slamming it triumphantly onto the board. “Lily! Roar!”
“Good boy!” Lily beamed, leaning down to press a warm kiss against his forehead.
A shadow fell over the threshold of the conservatory.
Lily looked up, her smile softening into an instinctual, nervous reverence.
Victor stood in the doorway. He was dressed casually—a rarity for him—wearing a soft black cashmere sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, dark trousers, and no tie. He looked younger without the armor of his bespoke suits, but no less lethal.
“Da!” Ethan squealed, spotting his father instantly.
The toddler scrambled onto his knees, using Lily’s shoulder for balance before taking two wobbly, determined steps forward across the rug.
Victor moved with effortless speed, dropping to one knee and sweeping his son into his arms before the boy could stumble. Ethan wrapped his little arms around his father’s thick neck, burying his face into Victor’s jaw.
“Look at you,” Victor murmured, his voice thick with a tenderness that would have shocked the hardened capos of the Chicago underworld. He hoisted Ethan up, kissing his cheek. “Walking without assistance.”
“He took three steps yesterday while you were in the council meeting,” Lily said, rising slowly to her feet, brushing imaginary lint from her navy skirt. “He’s stubborn. Just like his father.”
Victor’s gaze drifted from his son to Lily.
Her color had completely returned. Her amber eyes were bright, her dark hair gathered into a loose, elegant knot at the nape of her neck. The terror that had haunted her features weeks ago had been replaced by a quiet, blooming confidence.
“The doctors report you’re clearing the final stages of recovery,” Victor noted, his eyes trailing down to her waist.
Lily felt a sudden, electric heat spread beneath her collarbones. “Dr. Evans says the fractures are set. I can resume full duties on Monday, Mr. Blackwood. You don't need the temporary nurses anymore.”
Victor walked into the conservatory, carrying Ethan over to the glass wall looking out at the lake.
“I dismissed the temporary nurses this morning,” Victor said quietly.
Lily paused, her hands clutching the puzzle box. “You did? But... who will help with the night feeds?”
“You,” Victor replied, turning to look at her. “And me.”
The word hung in the humid air of the conservatory, thick and loaded with unspoken meaning.
“Mr. Blackwood...” Lily began, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The staff... the city... people are talking. They know Serena is gone. They know I was moved to the master wing.”
Victor walked toward her until he was standing just inches away. Ethan reached out from his father’s arms, catching a strand of Lily’s hair and tugging gently. Lily leaned in naturally, disentangling the toddler’s fingers with an effortless, tender touch.
Her hand brushed against Victor’s knuckles.
A jolt of pure static snapped between their skin. Neither of them pulled away.
“Let them talk,” Victor said, his voice low, vibrating right through her ribs. “The syndicate respects strength, Lily. They know I stripped the Montigues of their empire because someone touched what belongs to me.”
Lily looked up into his stormy slate eyes. “I don't belong to you, Mr. Blackwood. I work for you.”
Victor’s gaze darkened, a slow, predatory spark igniting in the depths of his pupils. He stepped closer, closing the final inch between them until she could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“Do you?” he whispered.
Before Lily could find the breath to answer, the heavy double doors of the conservatory were thrown open with a violent thud.
Dominic stood in the doorway, his face pale, his tactical vest strapped tight over his shirt. His hand was resting on the grip of his sidearm.
“Boss,” Dominic said, his voice taut as a wire. “We have a problem.”
Victor did not flinch, but his entire posture shifted from gentle father to warlord in less than a second. He passed Ethan smoothly into Lily’s arms.
“Take him to the safe room behind the study,” Victor commanded her, his voice devoid of all warmth, snapping with absolute authority. “Do not open the door for anyone except me or Dominic.”
“Victor, what’s happening?” Lily asked, clutching the baby tight against her chest.
Dominic stepped forward, his eyes grim. “The transport convoy carrying Serena Montigue to the airstrip was ambushed twenty minutes ago outside Gary, Indiana. Three of our men are dead.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed into slits of lethal diamond. “And Serena?”
“She’s gone,” Dominic replied. “Julian Montigue didn't roll over. He hired an unregistered paramilitary squad out of Detroit. They’re not running for the border, Boss.”
A sudden, sharp pop echoed from the front gates of the estate, followed immediately by the automated wail of the perimeter defense sirens.
May you like
“They’re here,” Dominic said.
***
