But at first glance, it looks like a perfectly ordinary room—ordinary and empty.
Then my eyes land on the trap door in the floor.
It’s still wide open, as if someone came or left in a hurry and chose not to close it—or got distracted before he could.
Perhaps by the conflict at the front gate.
Thanks, Sandro.
I couldn’t have done this without my brothers’ support, and it means a lot that they would back me up on this, even if the odds of success aren’t great.
Without a second’s hesitation, I rush for the trap door.
I’m grateful when I find the stairs down completely abandoned—and at the bottom is a simple wooden door with a deadbolt.
Just to be careful, I take the steps quietly, then ease the deadbolt open and slip inside the room.
The first rock catches me right above the temple.
Pain flares white-hot across my skull, and before I can react, the second one smashes against the side of my head, hard enough to make my ears ring.
“Jesus!” I stumble back, raising my arms to shield my face as warm blood trickles into my left eye.
My pulse spikes—not from the attack itself, but from the voice that follows.
“Gio?”
I lower my arms, blinking away the pain.
Stephanie stands across the room, Jackson beside her like a miniature guard dog, a small pile of rocks and broken bits of wood at their feet.
They’ve barricaded themselves in the far corner of the dimly lit room, backs against the wall, like they were ready to fight to the last breath.
Despite the blood running into my eyebrow, I can’t help it—I grin. “So, this was the plan? You two were going to take Kenji down with a pile of rubble?”
Jackson doesn’t waste a second.
The moment he sees my face, he bolts, racing across the room.
I barely have time to stoop before he’s slamming into me so hard, I grunt from the impact.
His little arms wrap tightly around my neck, his body shaking as I catch him and pull him in against my chest.
“I got you, kid,” I murmur, holding him like I’ll never let go. “You’re alright. I’m here. I’m taking you both somewhere safe.”
He sobs softly, the sound muffled against my shirt, but his grip doesn’t loosen.
If anything, it gets tighter.
My heart aches in a way that’s almost unbearable—because this little boy, this tiny scrap of defiance, was ready to give everything he had to protect his mom.
I keep one arm locked around him and glance up as I straighten, bringing him with me.
Stephanie moves toward us more slowly, her eyes glistening in the dim light.
She’s trying to be strong, but I can see the cracks in her composure.
“You two okay? Are you hurt?” I ask, my eyes scanning every inch of her for injury, watching the way she walks to make sure she’s not limping. As far as I can see, she’s fine, but my eyes flick back to hers for reassurance.
