“The gate is secure. Silvio’s men have fled.”

“Take Leo,” Dominic said, his voice cracking with exhaustion.

“Lock him in the vault downstairs. No one goes in, and he doesn’t come out.”

The guards grabbed Leo’s arms, dragging him away from his brother.

Leo didn’t struggle, but he turned his head to glare at me one last time.

“You’ve chosen the losing side, waitress,” he sneered.

The heavy basement door slammed shut behind them, cutting off his voice.

Dominic sagged against a marble pillar on the terrace, his hand pressed tightly against his bleeding side.

“Are they safe?” he asked, his eyes drifting to the bundles in my arms.

I peeled back the wet flannel blanket, showing him the pale, sleeping faces of Luca and Liana.

“They are shivering, but they are alright,” I said.

He reached out a hand, his fingers stained with mud and blood, and gently touched Liana’s small forehead.

“You did well, Clara,” he said softly.

“Your mother would have been proud of you.”

“We need to get you inside,” I said, looking at the dark stain spreading across his shirt.