The Knife at the Door
The knob turned slowly, the creak echoing in the silence. Elena's grip on the pistol tightened, her body trembling but her eyes fierce. She wasn't going to let anyone near Isabella.
The door cracked open. A masked man slipped inside, a knife gleaming in his hand. His voice was low, taunting.
"Pretty little nanny. The boss won't save you this time."
Elena's breath caught, but she didn't back down. She stepped in front of Isabella, raising the gun. "Take one more step, and you'll never leave this room alive."
The intruder smirked beneath the mask. He lunged.
The gunshot thundered in the small room. Elena's hands shook violently, the recoil jarring through her bones. The man dropped, the knife clattering at her feet. Silence returned—broken only by Isabella's sudden sobs as she woke, terrified.
Elena dropped the pistol, rushing to the child, tears streaming down her own face. She held Isabella tightly, whispering, "It's over, baby. It's over… I've got you."
But her trembling hands told a different story. She had killed to protect her. There was no going back.
---
Meanwhile…
Lucian's car sped through the night, the city lights a blur. His blood still burned from the battle at the docks, but his mind wasn't on victory—it was on Elena. On her defiance, her fire, the way she had looked at him like he was more than a monster.
For years, he had believed love was weakness. But tonight, he felt the truth clawing at him. Elena wasn't his weakness. She was his strength. The thought of losing her filled him with more terror than any bullet ever had.
"Faster," he barked at the driver, his hands fisting at his sides.
He would kill every last man who dared threaten her. But first—he had to see her. To know she was alive. To tell her what he had buried in silence for too long.
---
Back at the safehouse, Elena sat on the floor, Isabella clutched against her chest, the dead man sprawled a few feet away. The smell of gunpowder lingered. Her tears wouldn't stop.
When the door burst open and Lucian stormed in, her eyes met his—wild, broken, and relieved all at once.
"Lucian…" she whispered, her voice cracking.
His gaze flicked from the body on the floor to the trembling woman before him. Rage surged in his chest, but so did something else—something that nearly brought him to his knees.
He had almost lost them.
Without another word, he pulled Elena and Isabella into his arms, holding them as if he could shield them from the entire world.
"You're mine," he growled into her hair, his voice breaking. "Both of you. And no one will ever take you from me."