Morning arrived without ceremony.
Gray light slipped through the reinforced windows, dull and cautious, as if the city itself was unsure what kind of day it was allowed to be. Somewhere below, traffic resumed. People woke, checked their phones, and complained about the weather. Life continued, indifferent to the violence that had been carved into the night.
Dominic stood at the sink, scrubbing his hands.
The water ran hot, skin reddening beneath his fingers, but the stains were stubborn. He scrubbed anyway. Not because he believed in cleansing, but because stillness gave his mind too much room.
He had ended things before. Deals. Threats. Men.
This felt different.
Behind him, the apartment was quiet. Too quiet. The absence of Eli's footsteps and Lucia's controlled movements pressed in on him. He did not belong here. He knew that. He had inserted himself into a life that functioned without him and then nearly shattered it by existing.
The water shut off.
Dominic dried his hands slowly and turned.
Lucia stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face drawn with exhaustion she had not allowed herself to feel until now. Her eyes went immediately to his hands.
"Is it finished?" she asked.
"Yes."
No embellishment. No explanation.
She nodded once. "Good."
There was no relief in her voice. Only acceptance.
"You should rest," he said.
"So should you."
"I will later."
Lucia studied him, something sharp and searching in her gaze. "You are bleeding."
"It is nothing."
"That is what people say when they refuse to acknowledge damage."
Dominic did not respond.
She stepped aside and walked past him into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water with steady hands. The normalcy of the action felt surreal. As if last night had been a dream they had both agreed not to talk about.
"Eli will wake soon," Lucia said. "He cannot see you like this."
Dominic glanced down at his knuckles again. The skin was split. Bruised. He nodded and reached for the first aid kit.
Lucia watched him clean and bandage his hands with practiced efficiency. She recognized the movements. This was not new to him.
That frightened her.
"Did anyone see you?" she asked.
"No."
"Will anyone trace it back to us?"
"No."
She inhaled slowly. "You are very confident."
"I am very careful."
Silence settled between them again.
From the bedroom came a small sound. A shifting. A soft groan of waking.
Lucia straightened instantly. "Stay here."
She moved down the hall, her steps light and controlled. Dominic listened as her voice softened and changed shape entirely.
"Good morning," she murmured. "Did you sleep?"
"Mama," Eli's voice replied, thick with sleep. "Are we still in the new place?"
"Yes," Lucia said. "Just for today."
There was a pause. Then, "Is it safe now?"
Dominic closed his eyes.
"Yes," Lucia said gently. "It is safe."
The lie tasted bitter even from across the room. He wondered if she knew it. He wondered if children always did.
Lucia emerged a few minutes later, Eli trailing behind her, rubbing his eyes. He froze when he saw Dominic, his gaze flicking to the bandages.
"You hurt," Eli said.
Dominic crouched slightly, keeping distance. "A little."
"Did the bad men do it?"
"Yes."
Eli considered that, then nodded. "Good."
Lucia stiffened. "Eli."
He shrugged. "Mama says bad people should not hurt others."
Dominic felt something tighten painfully in his chest. "Your mother is right."
Eli yawned and leaned into Lucia's side. She rested a hand on his shoulder, grounding both of them.
"We are going home today," she said.
Dominic looked up sharply. "It is too soon."
"I will not keep him hidden," Lucia replied. "That is how fear wins."
"They could still be watching."
"They are not," she said. "You said so."
Dominic hesitated. "I said they would not come near you again. Watching is different."
Lucia met his gaze, unyielding. "I will not live in a bunker. Not for you. Not for anyone."
He nodded slowly. "Then I will double security quietly."
"You will not."
"Lucia."
"No," she said firmly. "You promised to follow my rules."
Dominic held her gaze, then inclined his head. "Very well."
The word sounded like a concession. It was not. He was already planning around it.
Breakfast was simple. Toast. Fruit. Eli ate quietly, unusually subdued. Lucia watched him carefully, filing away every small change. Trauma did not always scream. Sometimes it whispered.
Afterward, she packed quickly. Dominic stood by, saying nothing, absorbing the domestic intimacy he had never earned. The toothbrush is by the sink. The spare sweater was folded too neatly. The way Lucia checked Eli's backpack twice.
This was a life. Not an arrangement.
The drive back was tense but uneventful. Dominic followed in a separate car, distance maintained. He did not like letting them out of his sight. He liked even less that he had no right to insist.
The building was quiet when they arrived. Too quiet, Lucia thought, but she forced herself not to let fear dictate her perception. The doorman greeted them as usual. The elevator ride passed without incident.
Inside the apartment, everything was exactly as they had left it. No disturbances. No signs of intrusion.
Lucia exhaled slowly.
Eli dropped his backpack and went straight for his blocks, building again, stacking pieces with deliberate care.
"It is stronger this time," he said.
Lucia smiled faintly. "I can see that."
Dominic remained near the door, uncertain.
"You can go," Lucia said without looking at him.
"I know."
He did not move.
She turned. "Do not make this harder than it already is."
His jaw tightened. "I am not done."
"Yes," she said. "You are."
A beat passed.
"I meant with them," Dominic said. "Not with you."
Lucia folded her arms. "That remains to be seen."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "They will not forget this."
"Neither will I."
"You think this ends with one night."
"I think it ends when I decide it does," she replied. "Not when you do."
Dominic searched her face, frustration and something dangerously close to admiration warring in his expression.
"You are not afraid of me anymore," he said.
Lucia held his gaze. "I am afraid of the world you represent. That has not changed."
"And me."
She hesitated, just barely. "You are part of that world."
The answer was not what he wanted. It was honest.
Dominic nodded once. "Then I will prove I can exist outside it."
Lucia laughed softly, without humor. "You do not leave your world. You bend it."
"Perhaps," he said. "But even bending can create space."
"For whom?" she asked.
"For him," Dominic said quietly, glancing toward Eli.
Lucia followed his gaze. Eli was humming softly to himself, completely absorbed in his construction. Unaware of the stakes being negotiated around him.
"That is not your decision," she said.
"No," Dominic agreed. "It is yours."
Silence stretched again.
"You saved us," Lucia said finally. "That does not erase what you did to me. But it matters."
Dominic swallowed. "That is more than I expected."
"Do not let it go to your head."
A corner of his mouth lifted briefly. "I would not dare."
She walked him to the door. When he reached for the handle, she spoke again.
"If you ever put him in danger," she said quietly, "I will destroy you."
Dominic met her gaze without flinching. "If anyone ever puts him in danger," he replied, "I will destroy them first."
They stood there, two people shaped by power and pain, bound now by something neither had planned.
Dominic left.
Lucia locked the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaustion finally crashing over her. Her legs felt weak. Her hands trembled.
She slid down until she was sitting on the floor.
From the living room, Eli looked up. "Mama."
She pushed herself to her feet immediately and walked to him, pasting on a smile she did not feel.
"I'm okay," she said, sitting beside him.
He studied her with unnerving seriousness. "You're tired."
"Yes."
"Did you fight the bad people?"
Lucia hesitated. "No."
"Did he?"
She looked toward the door, then back at her son. "Yes."
Eli nodded slowly. "Is he good?"
Lucia closed her eyes for a brief second. "He is trying."
Eli seemed to accept that. He placed another block carefully on top of the tower.
Lucia watched it rise, piece by piece, fragile and deliberate.
The city outside continued its rhythm. Somewhere, consequences were unfolding. Somewhere, Dominic Blackwood was wading deeper into a war he claimed was over.
Lucia knew better.
This was not the end.
It was the moment everything became personal.