Chapter 6 - A Child's First Word
Vincent moved with terrifying, lethal speed. With a roar that shook the very foundation of the mansion, he grabbed the mercenary by the back of his tactical vest and hurled him headfirst through the bay window. The glass shattered into a thousand glittering shards as the man plummeted three stories down onto the jagged rocks of the courtyard below.
Vincent spun around, his suit splattered with blood, his eyes wild with adrenaline. Behind him, dozens of Moretti enforcers swept through the hallway, systematically eliminating the remaining intruders with cold, methodical efficiency.
Vincent dropped his weapon, falling to his knees beside me. His hands were trembling as he inspected my bruised neck, pulling me against his broad chest. ""Evelyn! Are you hurt? Talk to me, amore mio, please!""
""I'm okay... I'm okay,"" I gasped out, coughing as air returned to my bruised windpipe. ""The girls... check the girls!""
Chloe crawled out from beneath the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. But Mia stood in the center of the room, looking at her blood-stained hands, then looking at me on the floor.
Her tiny chest heaved. Fourteen months of absolute, frozen silence—fourteen months of grief, trauma, and locked-away sorrow—suddenly cracked wide open under the weight of pure love.
Mia ran across the shattered glass and threw her arms around my neck.
""MOMMY!"" she cried out, her small voice ringing clear, sweet, and unmistakable through the carnage. ""Mommy, don't die! Mommy!""
Chloe gasped from the floor, scrambling forward on her hands and knees to join her sister. ""Mommy! Mommy!""
Vincent froze as if struck by lightning. A hardened mob boss, a man who had survived assassinations, turf wars, and federal crackdowns without shedding a single tear, collapsed into our huddle. Tears spilled over his dark eyelashes, running down his scarred cheeks as he heard his daughters' voices for the first time since the day his first wife died.
""My babies,"" Vincent wept openly, wrapping his massive arms around all three of us. ""My beautiful babies.""
I held both girls tightly against my chest, tears streaming down my face as I kissed their foreheads over and over. ""I'm right here, my darlings. Mommy is right here. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again.""
That night, after the police had cleaned the estate and the remaining Russian syndicate leaders had been captured across the city, Vincent sat beside me in the master bedroom. For the first time, he asked me to stay with him in the main bed, holding me close through the darkness as the girls slept soundly between us.
He reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face, his thumb lingering on my cheek.
""When I asked you to marry me on that sidewalk,"" Vincent confessed softly, his voice thick with raw emotion, ""it was out of convenience. I needed a respectable image. But tonight... seeing you fight for my children, seeing how they love you... I realized something, Evelyn.""
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""What?"" I asked, my heart fluttering against my ribs.
""I don't just need you as a wife on paper,"" he whispered, leaning down until his lips gently brushed against mine in a kiss so tender, so full of reverent passion, it took my breath away. ""I am irrevocably, completely in love with you.""
