CHAPTER 3: THE PRICE OF PROTECTION

The knife pressed against Leo’s throat froze June in place. Her little boy sobbed, clinging to the sleeves of the masked man, terror making his small body shake. That was it. The June Avery who spent years crying in a kitchen was gone. In her place stood a mother who’d burn the world down for her child, who would give up everything she’d ever known to save him from this nightmare.

Dante looked like death itself—still as stone, gun raised, finger curled and ready, every muscle tense and coiled like a predator about to strike.

“Let him go,” Dante growled, voice so low it barely sounded human, the kind of voice that sent chills down June’s spine. “You hurt him, I’ll do more than kill you. I’ll wipe out everyone you’ve ever cared about.”

The man’s hands shook, sweat gleaming at his hairline beneath the mask. “Drop the gun, Romano!” he shouted, trying to sound tough, but his fear gave him away in the tremor of his voice. “The Vancents want the boy. If I can’t have him, nobody does!”

June saw that grip tighten around Leo, saw the terror flood her son’s eyes, wide and pleading. She didn’t wait for Dante. Didn’t even think. She grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy glass vase—and smashed it hard against the wall, the shards flying like a rain of knives.

That crash made the kidnapper flinch, just for a split second, eyes flicking toward the sound. That’s all Dante needed.

Bang.

Gunshot rang out, sharp and deafening in the confined space. The bullet caught the man in the shoulder and he staggered, dropping Leo. June threw herself forward, sliding across the floor to catch her son before he hit it, pulling him tight as if she could shield him from everything bad in the world. She wrapped herself around Leo as shattered glass rained down, the sound drowned out by the pounding of her heart.

Dante was on the kidnapper in a heartbeat, knee crushing the man’s chest, face a mask of cold fury. He didn’t even glance at June—he was locked on his target, eyes flat and merciless. “Secure the perimeter!” he barked, just as his guards crashed through the doors, guns drawn, faces grim. “Find every last Vancent. I want them gone.”

June sat on the cold floor, clutching a trembling Leo to her chest, feeling his heart hammer against her own. She looked up at Dante, standing there in the shadows, gun still in hand, barking orders like a king at war, surrounded by chaos but in total control. This was her new reality, a world where violence answered violence and safety came at a cost she hadn’t even begun to understand.

She finally understood: this wasn’t about a debt or a fake marriage. This was a battlefield. Money was a weapon. Her son was the prize. If she wanted to survive, she couldn’t just play the roles she’d clung to—consultant, wife. She had to become just as cold, just as sharp, as the man standing over her, the man who’d dragged her into this world but was now the only shield she had. The truth hit her: the man she hated was the only one ruthless enough to teach her how to fight the monsters he’d let in.

“Are you hurt?” Dante asked, turning to her at last, features softening for a flicker of a moment. He offered his hand, palm steady despite all the violence. For a second, June caught a flicker of something—real fear—in his eyes. For her.

“We’re alive,” she said, voice hard, the words pulled from some new place inside her. She didn’t take his hand. She stood on her own, clutching Leo, feeling the weight of everything that had just happened. “But we’re not safe, are we? This is what being a Romano means.”

Dante glanced down at the wounded kidnapper, then tore off the mask with a brutal motion.

June gasped. It wasn’t some stranger. It was the baker from next door—the one who’d given Leo free cookies, who’d smiled at her every morning, who’d watched them with kind eyes. He’d been the Vancents’ spy the whole time, living right beside them, waiting for the perfect moment.

“He’s been watching us for years, June,” Dante said, voice dark, eyes locked on hers, the anger simmering just below the surface. “They waited for me to find you so they could use you against me. Your father didn’t just betray you today. He gave them your address the day Leo was born.”

A new pain ripped through June, sharper than any knife. Her father hadn’t just gambled away their future—he’d handed her and her child over as collateral, a backup plan he kept in his pocket for five years, a secret betrayal that had haunted every moment of Leo’s life.

Dante stepped closer, reaching for Leo’s hair, as if to comfort him. June jerked back, her whole body recoiling from that touch. All she saw was the money, the guns, the cold power. The man who’d shattered her life now claimed he could keep her safe.

She looked down at the blood on the floor, then up at Dante’s dark, possessive eyes, the eyes of a man who would do anything to keep what was his. The doors to this mansion were locked tight, but the world outside was filled with killers. She was caught between a man who wanted to own her and a world that wanted her dead.

She looked right at Dante and asked the only thing that mattered:

“If I stay here to save my son, will I end up a monster just like you?”