Chapter 3 - The Price of Blood
Marcus whimpered, clutching his shattered knee, his face blistered from the boiling water and leaking blood from my knife slash. He looked up at Elias, the bravado completely drained from his body, replaced by primal terror.
"Vance... wait!" Marcus begged, dragging himself backward until his back hit the kitchen cabinets. "It wasn't my idea! Marcone paid me! He said if I gave him Ava and the kids, he’d give me a territory in Queens! I'm just their father—I have rights!"
Elias stopped a foot away from Marcus. He didn't draw a weapon. Instead, he reached down, grabbed Marcus by the collar of his coat with one hand, and lifted the grown man entirely off the ground, slamming him against the wall.
"You lost your rights the moment you left them under the Hudson bridge," Elias said, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "You called them a curse. You let your men put hands on your wife."
"She’s nothing!" Marcus choked out, struggling for air. "She’s just a poor girl from the slums! Why do you care about her?!"
Elias’s grip tightened. "Because she has more courage in her little finger than you have in your entire pathetic bloodline. She bled to keep those children warm. You bled because you're a coward."
Elias threw Marcus back onto the floor like a sack of trash. He turned to Viktor, who was leaning against a wall, bleeding from a shoulder wound but still conscious.
"Viktor. Clean up the apartment. Take Mr. Miller to the basement down at the docks. Do not kill him yet. I want Marcone to know what happens when he sends trash into my home."
"Yes, Boss," Viktor growled, beckoning two surviving guards to drag Marcus away. Marcus screamed and begged for mercy as he was pulled through the blood-stained hallway, his cries fading into the elevator shaft.
Once the room was quiet, Elias walked over to me. The murderous rage that had filled his eyes seconds ago vanished, replaced by an expression of deep, almost painful tenderness. He dropped to one knee beside me on the ruined kitchen floor.
"Let me see them," he whispered gently.
I unswaddled the scarf slightly. Lily and Rose were still crying, terrified by the noise. Elias carefully reached out his large, blood-stained hands, hesitated, and then wiped his palms on his trousers before gently taking Rose into his arms. He cradled her head against his chest, rocking her with an effortless grace that seemed completely at odds with his dangerous persona.
Miraculously, Rose stopped crying. She blinked up at him with her wide, dark eyes, resting her tiny fist against his lapel.
"They're tough," Elias murmured, a soft smile breaking through his stern features. "Just like their mother."
"I was so scared, Elias," I confessed, the adrenaline finally leaving my system, leaving me shaking violently. "I thought he was going to take them."
"He will never take them," Elias promised, his tone ironclad. "Not while I draw breath. But this building is compromised. Marcone has pushed all his chips into the middle of the table. Tonight was just the opening move."
"What do we do now?"
Elias looked around at the destroyed penthouse, then back down at me and the babies. "We move to the Estate in upstate New York. It’s a fortress. Safe, isolated, and fortified. You and the girls will stay there while I finish this war."
"No," I said firmly, reaching out to grab his hand.
Elias blinked, surprised by my resistance. "Ava, it’s not safe for you in the city."
"I'm not hiding while you fight my battles alone," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "Marcus is my mistake. This nightmare started because I was too weak to stand up to him. If Marcone is using my past to destroy you, then let me help you destroy him."
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Elias stared at me for a long moment, studying the bruise forming on my jaw and the fiery determination in my eyes. A slow, approving smile spread across his face.
"You really are something, Ava Miller," he said softly. "Very well. You'll come to the Estate, but you won't just be hiding. You'll be standing right beside me."
