A Glock 19. A knife with a pearl handle, a gift from my grandfather. And a box of ammunition I'd hoped never to use again.
I loaded the Glock with practiced efficiency, the weight of it familiar in my hand. Then I secured it in the desk drawer, close enough to reach but hidden from view.
I'd killed my first man when I was seventeen. A rival family's soldier who'd pulled a knife outside a Queens nightclub. My father had been proud, had called it my "baptism" into the family business.
I'd never enjoyed the violence. But I'd learned to be efficient with it. To use it when necessary and never hesitate.
If Matteo came for my family, I wouldn't hesitate now.
That evening, I found Leo in the playroom, building what appeared to be a castle out of blocks. He worked with intense focus, his tongue poking out slightly as he balanced each piece.
"That's impressive," I said from the doorway.
He looked up, face lighting with a smile that made my chest tight. "Cass'an! Look! Made castle!""
I moved closer, crouching beside him. "For who?"
"For Rex!" He held up the stuffed dinosaur, hugging it. "He da king. Needs big castle."
"Very important," I agreed. "Can I help?"
"Yes! Make tower! Really, really tall!"
We worked together in comfortable silence, Leo instructing me on proper tower construction with the seriousness of a master architect. His small hands would reach for blocks, occasionally brushing against mine, and each time I marveled at how something so tiny could be so perfect.
"Cass'an?" he asked after a while. "You stay here?"
The question caught me off guard. "I live here, yes. And so do you now."
"And Mama?"
"Your mama too."
He seemed to consider this, his small face thoughtful. "Good. Like it here." He paused, stacking another block. "Toys."
Then his expression shifted, becoming serious. He looked up at me. "Mama sad."
The observation, so simple and honest, hit harder than any accusation could have. "She is?"
"Yeah." He nodded solemnly. "She cries.”
He placed another block carefully. "She miss home? And Maya?"
"Maybe," I said, though I knew it was more complicated than that. "Sometimes change is hard, even when it's for the best."
"Oh." He accepted this with the easy adaptability of childhood, then brightened slightly. "Mama here and me here. All together."
"We are," I agreed. "And that's good, right?"
"Yeah!" He smiled, then pointed at the blocks. "More blocks? Up there? Can't reach." I handed him the blocks, watching as he built higher, his small hands steady and sure. This child—my child—had no idea of the danger circling us. No concept of the threats his very existence posed.
And I would keep it that way. Whatever it took.
"Leo?" Isla's voice came from the doorway. "Time to get ready for bed."
"No, Mama! Not done! Castle not done!"
"You can finish tomorrow." She stepped into the room, her eyes flicking to me briefly before returning to Leo. "Say goodnight to Cassian."
