Chapter 11 - The Purge
The purge of the Rossi estate was silent, swift, and absolute. There were no sirens, no shouting, no public disturbances. Within fifteen minutes, loyal enforcers had rounded up Marco and four of his corrupt guards, stripping them of their weapons and dragging them into the soundproof subterranean cellars beneath the old manor.
Julian didn't let Elena witness the interrogation, but when he returned to her suite an hour later, his knuckles were bruised and his shirt was missing its cuffs. He washed his hands in her bathroom sink, the running water the only sound in the quiet room.
Elena sat on the edge of the bed, watching him dry his hands with a towel. "Is it true?" she asked quietly. "Was it an ambush?"
"Every word," Julian said, throwing the towel aside and walking over to her. He knelt on one knee before her, bringing his eyes level with hers. For the first time since she had dragged him from the freezing river, he looked genuinely shaken. "Marco was feeding Vincente our tactical movements since the day my father died. He was the one who gave them the coordinates to the hunting lodge in Maine where I was shot."
He took her hands in his, his grip tight and warm. "You saved me again, Elena. Twice in one week. If you hadn't risked your life to walk down those dark corridors tonight, my men and I would have walked straight into a slaughterhouse tomorrow morning. And you and Maisie..." His voice trailed off, a flash of pure, protective rage darkening his eyes at the thought of his daughter being touched by his enemies.
"We protect each other now, Julian," Elena said, her fingers instinctively curling around his large hand. "That's what you said. We're family."
Julian looked down at their joined hands, a slow, profound emotion breaking through his hardened exterior. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss against her bruised knuckles—the same knuckles that had fought to suture his bleeding side in a freezing cabin.
"Yes," Julian whispered, his voice thick with unshakeable resolve. "We are family, Elena. And nobody destroys my family."
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He stood up, his posture shifting back into the commanding warrior who was about to rewrite the underworld map of New England. "Vincente thinks he has an ambush waiting for me on D Street at dawn. He thinks my GPS is dark and my backup is delayed."
A dangerous, predatory smirk touched his lips. "We are going to give him exactly what he expects. Except I won't be in the lead vehicle. And by the time the sun rises, Vincente's reign of terror will be over forever."
