Chapter 6 - The Wounded Lion
The underground bunker was a fortress within a fortress—steel-reinforced walls, independent life-support systems, and state-of-the-art medical supplies.
Dominic secured the heavy steel door just as the sounds of gunfire above reached a crescendo, followed by the muffled thuds of heavy explosives. For forty minutes, Isabelle paced the room in agonizing suspense, her hands wrapped around her stomach as her heart pounded against her ribs.
Finally, the hydraulic seal of the door hissed open.
Vincent stepped inside. His shirt was torn, soaked in sweat and dark blood from the shoulder graze, and his face was smeared with soot. But his eyes were clear, and he was walking upright.
"It's over," Vincent said quietly. "The breach has been cleared. The traitors are dead."
Isabelle let out a ragged cry and ran toward him, throwing her arms around his uninjured side. Vincent gasped softly at the impact, then wrapped his arms securely around her, holding her close against his chest.
"You're hurt," she cried, looking at the blood dripping down his arm.
"It's nothing," Vincent insisted. "A scratch."
"Sit down," she commanded, her fear turning into fierce determination. She guided him to a bench and fetched a medical trauma kit from the shelf.
Despite her heavy pregnancy, Isabelle kneeled beside him, gently cutting away his bloody shirt and cleaning the deep bullet graze with antiseptic. Vincent watched her hands—steady, precise, and infinitely gentle despite the chaos that had just unfolded.
"You saved my life back there," Vincent murmured softly, gazing at her profile. "If you hadn't yelled Marco's name..."
"You were protecting my babies," Isabelle said, her eyes meeting his. "And you were protecting me. I couldn't let him kill you."
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Vincent reached out with his uninjured arm, his thumb gently wiping away a streak of soot from her cheek. "They are our babies, Isabelle. And I realized tonight... I cannot live in a world where you are not in it."
Isabelle’s heart fluttered wildy. The dangerous, ruthless mafia boss had dropped all his armor, standing bare before her as a man deeply, madly in love. She leaned up and pressed her lips softly against his. Vincent responded with immediate, fiery warmth, pulling her tenderly against his chest as the shadows of the past finally dissolved.
