Then she saw the little boy. Six-year-old Leo was sitting inside a VIP booth surrounded by dangerous men.

The battle on the bridge ramp was short, brutal, and terrifying.

Julian operated with surgical lethality. Kicking the heavy door open using the vehicle's momentum, he fired into the ambushers with terrifying accuracy, giving Lucca the opening needed to smash through the secondary roadblock.

Sirens wailed in the distance—not city police, but the private tactical reinforcement units of the Thorne Syndicate converging like an iron fist. Within four minutes, the surviving attackers were routed, wounded, or captured.

Clara sat trembling in the shattered remains of the passenger compartment, her ears ringing from the concussive blasts. When Julian stepped back into the vehicle, his shirt was torn, flecked with gunpowder and someone else’s blood, but he was entirely unharmed.

He didn't speak. He reached down, dragged Clara into his arms, and buried his face in her hair, breathing her in as if checking that she was still made of flesh and bone.

"We go to the compound," Julian commanded Lucca hoarsely. "Now."

The Thorne Compound was not the penthouse. It was a secluded, heavily fortified estate nestled deep within forty acres of dense forest north of the city. High stone walls, private surveillance towers, and armed guards patrolling behind iron gates greeted them as the battered convoy rolled through the entrance.

When the car finally stopped in the grand courtyard, Julian didn't let Clara walk. He scooped her up again, carrying her past ranks of bowed guards straight into the warmth of the estate's main hall.

Leo was there, waiting in the arms of an elderly housekeeper. When he saw them, he broke free and ran.

"Clara! Papa!"

Julian knelt, pulling both his son and Clara into an embrace. The little boy clung to Clara’s neck, crying softly against her silk gown.

"I heard the thunder on the radio," Leo sobbed. "I thought the bad men took you."

"Nobody is taking anyone, Leo," Clara whispered, her own tears finally spilling over as she stroked the boy's hair, her hands shaking. "We're here. We're safe."

Julian stood slowly, watching the two of them. His jaw was clenched so hard the muscle ticked violently.

"Take Leo to bed, Clara," Julian said quietly, his voice dangerously low. "Lucca and I have work to finish."

Clara looked up at him, seeing the dark abyss in his eyes. She knew what that look meant. "Julian... don't do something that takes you away from him."

Julian walked over, cupping her cheek with his blood-stained hand, thumb tracing the soft skin under her eye. "I am doing this so no one can ever threaten what is mine again. Stay with him. Wait for me."

Before she could answer, Julian turned and strode out into the rain, flanked by thirty heavily armed men in tactical gear. The night exploded with the distant hum of helicopters and departing armored vehicles.