Chapter 5 - When the Black Sedans Arrived: A High-Society War Knocks on an Impoverished Door
Dawn arrived with a sickly gray light that barely pierced the city fog.
Leah had just finished packing Matteo's lunchbox when the low, synchronized rumble of high-powered engines vibrated through the floorboards. Looking out the window, her blood ran cold.
Four matte-black Mercedes-Maybachs were parked directly outside the tenement building, completely blocking traffic. Men in tailored black trench coats with earpieces secured the perimeter, their hands tucked suspiciously inside their jackets.
"Julian," Leah whispered, panicking. "They found you."
Julian didn't look worried. He calmly pulled his jacket on over his stained shirt. "Those aren't enemies. That is my personal guard."
A heavy knock rattled the apartment door—three measured taps, followed by two quick ones.
Julian walked over and swung the door open. A man with silver hair, sharp wire-rimmed glasses, and an immaculate black suit stepped inside, bowing his head respectfully. Behind him stood two hulking bodyguards holding leather duffel bags.
"Mr. Vance," the older man exhaled in visible relief. "When your locator went dead at the Aurelia, we anticipated the worst. Sable has already moved to freeze your shell accounts."
"Sable will pay for his arrogance with his skin, Marcus," Julian said, his voice chilled to absolute zero. "Has the penthouse been swept?"
"Triple-secured. The entire syndicate is waiting for your signal."
Marcus’s eyes shifted to Leah, who was standing defensively in front of Matteo's closed bedroom door, holding a heavy frying pan like a weapon.
Marcus raised an eyebrow. "And who is this?"
"This is Leah Moreno," Julian said, stepping between Marcus and the young woman. His voice held a clear, dangerous warning. "She pulled me out of the fire while the rest of you were looking at blank screens. From this moment on, she and her family are under Vance protection."
"Under Vance protection?" Leah interrupted, her brown eyes flashing. "Wait a minute! I didn't sign up to be in some mob war! I have a shift at the hotel at noon, and Matteo has school!"
Julian turned to her, his intense sea-green eyes fixing on hers. "You can't go back to the hotel, Leah. The men who drugged me saw your face. They will torture you just to find out if I survived."
Leah’s breath hitched. The reality of what she had done crashed over her like a tidal wave. "No... no, this can't be happening..."
"Pack one bag," Julian commanded gently, reaching out and gently taking the frying pan from her trembling hands. "Only what matters to you and the boy. You will never set foot in this slum again."
"I can't just leave my life!" she cried.
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"I am giving you a new one," Julian replied. "One where your nephew gets the best surgeons in the world, and where no one ever speaks down to you again. Now pack."
Ten minutes later, Leah and Matteo were escorted down the crumbling stairs into the rain. Neighbors peered through their curtains in stunned disbelief as the curvy neighborhood waitress and her little nephew were ushered into the back of a bulletproof limousine, shielded by the city's most feared shadows.
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