Chapter 8 Fire with Fire

Lorenzo's war room was alive with tension. Maps of New York were spread across the table, red markers pinpointing Rossi strongholds. His men gathered around, waiting for orders.

But Lorenzo wasn't a man giving orders tonight-he was a man planning retribution.

"They took one of ours. They think they can bargain with my family," he said, voice sharp as a blade. "That's not how this works."

Giovanni's betrayal had burned away the last of Lorenzo's mercy.

"Tonight," he continued, "we hit them where it hurts-no warnings, no negotiations. We finish this."

Aria stood in the doorway, watching the cold, methodical Mafia Prince take control. Yet, beneath the ruthlessness, she could see it-he was a father fighting for his son's future.

The Strike

Midnight cloaked the city as Valentini convoys rolled out. Lorenzo's retaliation was swift and merciless.

Rossi warehouses exploded in fireballs that lit up the night sky. Safe houses were raided, Rossi captains dragged out and made examples of.

But Lorenzo wasn't satisfied. He wouldn't be until the head of the snake-Matteo Rossi-was crushed beneath his heel.

Back at the estate, Aria paced relentlessly. She hated waiting, hated being sidelined. Every time her phone rang, her heart leapt, fearing it would be Lorenzo's men calling with the worst news.

But it wasn't a phone call that shattered her fragile sense of safety.

It was a voice-sharp, cruel, and far too close.

"Don't scream, Miss Russo."

She spun around.

A masked man stood in Leo's doorway, a silencer fitted to the pistol in his hand. He wasn't Valentini. He wasn't supposed to be here.

"Step aside," he said. "I only need the boy."

Aria's blood iced.

Over her dead body.

A Mother's Fury

Aria didn't think-she acted.

In a blur, she snatched a heavy brass lamp from the console and swung with every ounce of adrenaline-fueled strength. The lamp connected with the intruder's skull, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Leo woke up with a startled cry.

"Mommy!"

"It's okay, baby!" she gasped, scooping him into her arms. "We're getting out of here."

But as she dashed into the hall, another Rossi enforcer appeared at the end, gun drawn.

Aria's heart pounded. There was nowhere to run.

A gunshot cracked through the air.

But it wasn't aimed at her.

The Rossi thug dropped, a clean bullet wound between his eyes.

Lorenzo stood behind him, smoking gun in hand, eyes blazing. His men swarmed the estate, neutralizing the breach.

Aria barely had time to breathe before Lorenzo was in front of her, his arms encasing both her and Leo.

"I left for two hours," he muttered, his voice rough with guilt and fury. "Two damn hours."

"They were already inside," Aria whispered, still shaking.

Lorenzo's grip tightened. "Never again."

The Aftermath - Unspoken Vows

Later that night, as the estate was swept for any remaining threats, Lorenzo sat beside Aria and Leo on the bed.

Leo clung to his father, his small hand fisting Lorenzo's shirt as if anchoring himself.

"I should've seen this coming," Lorenzo said, his voice hollow.

Aria touched his face, gently forcing him to look at her. "You can't control everything, Lorenzo. But you can protect what matters when it counts. And you did."

His hand covered hers, his grip firm but tender. "I promised myself I'd never let anyone use my family against me. But you and Leo... you're not a weakness, Aria. You're my strength."

Emotion cracked his carefully constructed facade, and Aria saw the man beneath the Mafia Prince-the man who had built walls to survive, now crumbling because of his son's innocent touch and the woman who had never stopped haunting him.

"I'm tired of fighting you," she whispered. "Tired of pretending this isn't real."

Lorenzo's lips brushed against hers, the kiss slow, reverent, like a vow.

"Stay with me, Aria. Not because you're forced to. Stay because you want to."

Her answer was a whisper, but it echoed like a promise. "I'm not going anywhere."

Leo stirred between them, his sleepy eyes blinking open. "Daddy's staying too?"

Lorenzo's smile was soft but fierce. "Forever, son."