Chapter 13 - The Ferrante Bloodline
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By dawn, the storm had passed, leaving the city washed in a crisp, cold blue light.
In the private study of the Ferrante estate, Elias sat behind his grand mahogany desk, a glass of dark scotch sitting untouched beside a stack of syndicate ledgers.
The grand council meeting was set for noon. Valenti was currently locked in an underground holding cell, fully patched up and terrified out of his mind.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," Elias said.
Marin walked into the room. She had showered and changed into a clean black sweater and jeans. Her dark hair was damp, falling softly over her shoulders. She carried her small canvas duffel bag over her shoulder.
Elias stood up immediately, a sudden tightness gripping his chest. "Where are you going?"
"The threat is contained," Marin said quietly, setting the duffel bag on the floor. "Valenti is in custody. Your mother is safe. Marco has overhauled the security team."
"Your contract isn't finished," Elias said, stepping out from behind his desk.
"My shift ended three hours ago, Elias," she said, using his first name again. "You don't need a tactical combat medic anymore. You need a regular nurse for Adelaide."
Elias walked over to her, stopping mere inches away. "Do you really think this was just about a contract?"
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Marin looked down at her hands. "I told you... I came here to hide from war. I can't belong in your world, Elias. You live in a storm of blood, revenge, and power. I spent six years escaping that."
"I can protect you from the storm," Elias said fiercely, grabbing her face gently with both hands, forcing her to look into his dark, intense eyes. "Or better yet... we stand in it together."
