Chapter 7 - The Safehouse Protocol
The safehouse was a high-rise penthouse overlooking the rainy Chicago skyline, fortified with bulletproof glass and heavily armed guards at every elevator exit.
It was three in the morning by the time Leo was settled into his new nursery. The baby was fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that his world had almost burned down around him twice in one night.
I walked out into the spacious living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city lights flickering through the downpour.
Julian was sitting on the leather sofa, shirtless, holding an ice pack to his bandaged shoulder. A glass of amber scotch sat untouched on the glass table beside him.
"You should be resting," I said softly, walking over and taking the ice pack from his hand to position it correctly over his collarbone. "The suture tightens if you slouch like that."
Julian didn't move. He let me touch him, his gaze fixed on my face.
"You didn't run," he noted, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "When the doors opened... you could have taken Leo and hid in the utility closet. Instead, you picked up a gun."
"I told you," I said, focusing on adjusting his bandage so I didn't have to look directly into his intensely focused eyes. "I don't leave people behind."
"You're not a nurse anymore, Maya," he whispered. "And you're definitely not just a nanny."
"Then what am I, Julian?" I asked, finally lifting my eyes to meet his. "A witness? A bargaining chip?"
Julian reached out, his long fingers wrapping gently around my wrist, pulling me down until I was sitting beside him on the sofa. The space between us evaporated. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the steady thrum of his pulse under his skin.
"You're the only person in this city I trust," Julian admitted, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch in my throat. "Marcone thinks he took everything from me when he killed my sister. He thinks he can use my son to break me. But tonight, you proved him wrong."
"He's going to come back," I whispered, my heart racing for a completely different reason now. "He has police captains in his pocket. He has resources."
"Let him come," Julian said, his hand sliding up from my wrist to cup the back of my neck, his thumb tracing the jawline where Vance's knife had almost cut me. "Because I'm done playing defense. Tomorrow, I tear his empire apart."
"And what happens to me when it's over?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the sound of rain beating against the glass.
May you like
Julian leaned in close, his breath brushing against my lips.
"When it's over," he murmured softly, "I give you back your real name. I give you back your career. And then I ask you to stay... not because you have to, but because you want to."
