Chapter 10
Six months had passed since the brutal siege on the Hawthorne estate. The mansion had been fully repaired, the shattered crystal chandeliers replaced, and the velvet carpets restored. The Shaw syndicate had been entirely absorbed by Ronan’s forces, cementing his absolute dominance over the city's underworld.
It was late autumn, and the leaves outside the master suite window were turning shades of gold and crimson. Clara stood in front of the vanity, heavily pregnant now. She wore a loose, elegant silk gown, a diamond wedding band resting securely on her left hand.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and Ronan stepped into the room. He wore a soft grey sweater that stretched over his broad shoulders, moving with his usual quiet grace. He stopped at the edge of the bed, his dark eyes filled with warmth as he looked at his wife.
"How are you feeling?" Ronan asked softly, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his large, tattooed hands over her swollen belly.
"Heavy," Clara laughed gently, leaning back into his solid chest. "But good. Toby has been reading to the baby all morning."
"He's going to be a good big brother," Ronan murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
Their peaceful moment was abruptly broken by a sharp knock at the door. Silas entered the room, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw signaled immediate danger.
"Boss. Mrs. Hawthorne," Silas greeted, stepping inside and closing the door firmly behind him.
"What is it, Silas?" Ronan asked, his demeanor instantly shifting back to the hardened mafia boss. He didn't let go of Clara, keeping her anchored against him.
"We just intercepted an encrypted transmission on the secure server," Silas said, keeping his voice low. "It was heavily scrambled, routed through a dozen offshore proxies."
"From who?" Clara asked, a cold knot forming in her stomach.
"It used the Shaw family cipher," Silas replied grimly. "The one we thought died with Elias and Veronica."
Ronan’s jaw tightened. "Veronica is dead. I watched her die."
"I know," Silas said. "But the message wasn't from her. It was from her uncle in Europe. The one Elias always kept hidden."
Clara rested her hands over Ronan's, her breath catching in her throat. The peace they had fought so hard to build was suddenly fracturing.
"What did the message say, Silas?" Ronan demanded, his voice dropping to a lethal timber.
Silas hesitated for a fraction of a second before delivering the words that would ignite the next war.
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"It said, 'A life for a life. We are coming for the heir.'"
Ronan’s grip on Clara tightened, his dark eyes hardening into absolute, terrifying resolve. The war, it seemed, had only just begun.
