Part 10
Three hours passed in total silence.
Inside the panic room, there was a monitor showing the security cameras, but the feed had gone black after the first thirty minutes.
The twins had finally cried themselves to sleep, curled up on a small cot in the corner.
Lucia sat on the floor, her eyes glued to the heavy steel door.
Every second felt like an eternity.
Suddenly, a heavy thud echoed against the door.
Then, the sound of a electronic keypad beeped.
The heavy steel locks began to disengage.
Lucia stood up, grabbing a heavy metal flashlight from the emergency supply shelf.
She held it like a weapon, her breath hitched in her throat.
The door swung open slowly.
Tomaso stood there.
He looked like he had just walked out of hell.
His expensive suit jacket was gone.
His white shirt was torn, stained with dark blood and soot.
His left arm was bandaged hastily, a red stain blooming through the gauze.
But his eyes were clear. And they were fixed on her.
"It's over," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Lucia dropped the flashlight.
It clattered against the floor.
She didn't think. She didn't remind herself of the past five years of pain.
She just ran to him.
She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his uninjured shoulder.
Tomaso let out a low groan of relief, his good arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her off her feet.
He held her so tight it felt like he was trying to merge her into his own bones.
"You're bleeding," she sobbed into his neck.
"It's not mine," he murmured, kissing her hair.
"The Rossi family is done, Lucia. Their Don is dead. Their soldiers are gone."
"No one will ever hunt you again."
May you like
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her tear-stained face.
"You are safe now. I promise."
