Chapter 5 - The midnight garden
That night, a severe thunderstorm rolled over the estate. Thunder shook the heavy glass windows, illuminating the dark corridors with flashes of brilliant lightning.
Maya was asleep in her suite when she heard a soft knock at her door. She opened it to find Noah standing in his pajamas, his designer slippers silent on the rug. He was clutching his mother’s photograph, his rosy cheeks pale with fear.
“Can I stay with you?” he whispered.
“Always,” Maya smiled warmly, scooping the seven-year-old into her arms. She carried him to her large bed, pulling the thick duvet over them. She hummed a quiet lullaby, stroking his hair until the fear left his eyes and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.
The door opened silently again. Vincent stepped into the room. He had been checking the perimeter, unable to sleep. He walked over to the edge of the bed, looking down at his son sleeping safely in Maya’s arms.
Maya looked up at Vincent in the dim light. She gently slipped out from under the covers, making sure not to wake Noah, and walked over to Vincent near the large bay window overlooking the estate’s massive garden.
“He hates the thunder,” Vincent murmured, looking out at the rain. “It reminds him of the gunfire.”
“He feels safe now,” Maya assured him softly.
Vincent looked down at her. In the soft light, Maya’s fair skin and natural beauty were mesmerizing. The walls he had built around himself for two years were crumbling rapidly in her presence. He reached out and gently traced the line of her jaw. Maya didn't pull away; she leaned slightly into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a fraction of a second.
Vincent leaned in, his face inches from hers, the heat of his body radiating against the chill of the window.
Suddenly, a sharp, popping sound echoed from the far edge of the estate’s perimeter, barely audible over the thunder.
Vincent froze. The romantic tension vanished instantly, replaced by the lethal, calculating instincts of the Mafia Boss. He pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing a button on the side.
“Report,” Vincent demanded into the device.
“Boss,” a static voice replied from the earpiece. “We have a breach at the south gate. Three vehicles. It’s a coordinated hit.”
May you like
Vincent’s dark eyes locked onto Maya. “Lock this door. Do not let anyone inside unless you hear my voice.”
Before Maya could speak, Vincent turned and sprinted out of the room, plunging the estate into absolute chaos.
