Blood pooled beneath Leonardo, staining the ancient stones of the monastery as thunder rumbled overhead.
Noor's hand pressed against his side, her small palms trembling yet determined. "Don't move," she whispered, voice shaking. "You're losing too much blood."
Leonardo didn't flinch. His eyes, dulled with pain, were locked on her face. "You... shot him," he rasped.
"I missed his heart on purpose," she muttered, blinking fast to hold back tears. "But I would've killed him if I had to."
He gave a weak smile. "You amaze me… every second."
The air was thick with smoke from the earlier struggle. Enzo, unconscious and tied at the wrists, lay nearby. Noor, having torn her dupatta into strips, tied them tightly around Leonardo's wound.
"I've called Matteo," she said. "He'll be here soon with a doctor."
Leonardo winced as she tightened the knot. "You called Matteo?"
"You left your satellite phone unlocked. I remembered his name." She gave him a pointed look. "You're not the only one who learns fast."
The sound of sirens echoed in the distance—not police, but his own security. Relief flickered in his eyes before they fluttered closed.
"Don't sleep!" Noor slapped his cheek lightly. "You're not dying on me after all this."
"I'm not dying," he whispered, voice faint. "Not before I tell you everything…"
Two hours later…
Leonardo lay on a bed inside a makeshift safe room in another villa, hidden in the outskirts of Verona. The bullet had missed vital organs, but it was close. The doctor had done all he could.
Noor sat beside him, eyes rimmed with fatigue. She hadn't slept in 30 hours.
When Leonardo finally stirred, she straightened.
"You made it," she said softly.
His voice was low. "You stayed."
"I told you," she whispered, "I still need answers."
He turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Then it's time you knew the truth."
The truth came in layers.
Leonardo spoke for hours, his voice raw with honesty. He told her about the Moretti syndicate—how it wasn't just a mafia family, but a global web of shadow finance, mercenary groups, and arms dealing. How he had been raised as a weapon, not a son. How his mother had died in silence, and his father had groomed him to never flinch at pain—or mercy.
He confessed that the "contract" between them had started as a strategy. But somewhere between her silence and her strength, the lines blurred.
"I don't want to control you," he said quietly. "I want to be worthy of standing beside you."
Noor said nothing for a long moment. She rose, walked to the window, and whispered, "I thought I was just surviving. But now I realize… I've been changing too."
The threat wasn't over.
Enzo's betrayal had exposed cracks in Leonardo's network. Matteo confirmed it: someone inside the Moretti circle had sold their location. Noor was now a target, not just because of what she saw—but because she was with him.
"We need to disappear for a while," Leonardo said. "They'll expect us to flee to Rome or Istanbul. We go elsewhere."
Noor folded her arms. "You mean run?"
"No. We hide. We gather. Then we burn their empire down together."
She hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But next time you get shot, I'm leaving you behind."
He chuckled. "Noted."
They fled north.
To a secluded estate in Switzerland—snow-dusted, silent, and safe. Days passed in quiet routine. Noor took up Arabic calligraphy in the mornings. Leonardo spent hours reading about Islam—secretly at first, then openly with her.
They argued, sometimes. Noor hated his sarcasm. Leonardo hated her stubborn moral lines. But each clash was followed by mutual growth.
He stopped drinking out of respect. She started learning Italian phrases to navigate his world more easily.
One evening, she caught him staring at her as she read Quran by the window. The warmth in his eyes startled her.
"What?" she asked, frowning.
"You read like it's the only thing that matters."
"To me, it is."
He looked away. "I envy that certainty."
She tilted her head. "You don't have to envy it. You just have to seek it."
But peace never lasts.
A week later, Leonardo received a message: Rahim's men are coming for her.
The traitor inside the syndicate hadn't been caught. Worse, Noor's brother's name was now circulating on the dark web—someone had connected him to Rahim's collapsed cell.
"Is he in danger?" Noor asked, voice tight
.
"Yes," Leonardo replied. "And so are you."
They had no choice. The next step was war.
Climax: A Trap Within a Trap
Leonardo arranged a false meeting with Rahim's lieutenant—offering "information" Noor had "accidentally uncovered."
The plan? To trap him, extract names, and wipe out the threat.
The twist? Noor volunteered to be bait.
"You trust me?" Leonardo asked.
"I trust myself. And I know you'll cover me."
She entered the meeting wearing traditional Pakistani attire—submissive, silent. The men underestimated her.
Until she whispered in perfect Pashto: "You betrayed your faith for money."
The shock was enough. Leonardo's men stormed in.
But there was another twist.
The lieutenant had a backup: a drone strike.
As the building shook, Leonardo shielded Noor with his body. Dust choked the air. Screams echoed. They barely made it out alive.
Raw and Real
Back at the villa, Noor paced the room. "You promised me safety!"
Leonardo stood, bloody and bruised. "And you promised to trust me."
"I trusted you to protect me, not drag me into hell!"
He grabbed her hand. "Noor, this is war. And I will not fight it without you."
Her eyes welled. "I'm scared."
"So am I," he whispered. "But I'd rather face death with you than live another day pretending I don't care."
Silence.
Then, quietly, she said: "Then don't pretend. Fight for me. Fight with me."
He looked at her—and for the first time, he bowed his head, placing her hand to his heart.
"I already am."
To be continued in Chapter 11…