The bullet hit Lucien at 3:07 a.m.

Everything before that blurred into noise.

Smoke.

Blood.

Shouting.

The mansion had become a battlefield carved out of marble and fire while snowstorm winds screamed against shattered windows. Emergency lights flashed violently through the corridors, painting everything red.

Bodies lined the grand staircase.

Half the east wing burned.

And still Lucien kept moving.

Interesting.

Terrifying.

Absolutely inhuman.

Ivy followed close behind him through smoke and gunfire with shaking hands wrapped around the handgun Matteo forced into her life choices earlier tonight.

Lucien fired twice down the hallway ahead.

Another attacker dropped instantly.

“MOVE,” he barked sharply.

Ivy sprinted after him through debris and broken glass while alarms screamed overhead.

The mansion no longer looked like home.

It looked like survival.

Lucien reached the west corridor and stopped abruptly.

Too abruptly.

Matteo appeared from the opposite hallway bleeding from somewhere near his ribs and carrying enough ammunition to invade smaller countries.

“We found Russo’s exit team,” he shouted over the alarms. “Three men heading toward the underground garage.”

Lucien’s eyes darkened instantly.

Monster mode.

“Alive?”

“Unfortunately.”

Lucien moved immediately.

Ivy grabbed his sleeve before fully thinking.

“Lucien—”

He turned toward her fast.

Too fast.

Gray eyes sharp beneath blood and flashing lights.

“You stay behind me.”

“That is becoming your wedding vow apparently.”

No reaction.

Only fear hidden beneath violence now.

Always fear.

Lucien cupped her jaw quickly with one bloodstained hand.

One second.

Tiny touch.

Still devastating.

Then he disappeared down the staircase toward the garage level.

Ivy followed anyway.

Obviously.

The underground garage smelled like gasoline, smoke, and burning electrical wires. Emergency lights flashed overhead while snow blew inward through shattered security gates near the far entrance.

Gunfire erupted immediately the second they entered.

Lucien shoved Ivy hard behind a concrete pillar before bullets exploded against nearby walls.

“DOWN.”

The roar echoed violently through the garage.

Ivy dropped instantly beside Matteo while sparks burst overhead from ricochets.

Three armed men moved between black SUVs near the far exit ramp.

Russo guards.

Trying to escape.

Lucien fired once from behind cover.

A scream answered instantly.

One down.

Another guard shouted:

“MORETTI—”

Lucien stepped out from cover and shot him mid-sentence.

Cold.

Efficient.

Terrifying.

The third attacker vanished behind an armored vehicle.

Silence crashed through the garage afterward except for distant alarms and Ivy’s heartbeat trying to murder her internally.

Matteo wiped blood from his mouth.

“I hate literally everything tonight.”

Lucien moved carefully toward the final SUV.

Gun raised.

Pure predator.

Snow swirled through broken gates behind him while smoke drifted low across concrete floors.

Ivy watched his shoulders tighten slightly.

Tiny movement.

Still there.

Danger.

“Lucien,” she whispered sharply.

Too late.

The last Russo guard exploded upward from behind the SUV with an assault rifle already firing.

Everything happened too fast afterward.

Gunfire tore through the garage violently.

Matteo shouted something.

Ivy screamed.

And Lucien turned instantly toward her instead of the shooter.

Not tactical.

Not logical.

Love.

Pure catastrophic love.

He crossed the distance between them before Ivy fully processed movement.

One arm wrapped violently around her waist.

Then—

impact.

Lucien’s body jerked hard against hers.

The sound wasn’t loud.

Just wrong.

Terribly wrong.

For one frozen second—

nobody moved.

Then Lucien collapsed to one knee.

Oh no.

No no no—

“LUCIEN!”

The scream ripped violently from Ivy’s throat.

Matteo fired instantly past them.

Three shots.

The attacker dropped hard beside the SUV.

Dead.

Nobody cared.

Ivy dropped beside Lucien so fast her knees slammed concrete painfully.

Blood.

Too much blood.

Dark red spread rapidly across Lucien’s shirt beneath her shaking hands while emergency lights flashed violently overhead.

“No no no no—”

Lucien grabbed her wrist immediately.

Still conscious.

Barely.

Interesting.

Terrifying.

Very terrifying.

“Ivy.”

His voice sounded rough.

Wet.

Wrong.

Ivy’s breathing shattered instantly.

“Stay awake,” she gasped. “Lucien, stay awake—”

Matteo slid beside them already pulling his phone out with bloody hands.

“We need medics NOW—”

Lucien ignored him completely.

Of course he did.

His eyes stayed locked on Ivy.

Only Ivy.

Always Ivy.

Blood soaked rapidly through her fingers while she pressed desperately against the wound near his ribs.

Too much.

Way too much.

Her vision blurred instantly.

“You can’t do this,” she whispered brokenly.

Lucien smiled faintly.

Actually smiled.

Tiny.

Still there.

Interesting.

Heartbreaking.

“I’m okay.”

“You got SHOT.”

“Technically…” He coughed hard. Blood touched the corner of his mouth. “Not ideal.”

Ivy made a horrible sound somewhere between a sob and panic.

Matteo looked genuinely terrified now.

Actual terror.

Interesting.

Very bad sign.

Lucien reached slowly toward Ivy’s face with shaking fingers.

“I need you to listen.”

“No.”

The answer came immediate.

Violent.

“No no no, absolutely not, you’re not saying final things right now—”

“Ivy.”

His voice cracked softly through the chaos.

And suddenly she heard it.

The weakness.

Lucien Moretti sounded fragile for the first time in his life.

That terrified her more than blood.

More than bullets.

More than Russo.

“I loved you from the first winter.”

The confession shattered the garage apart.

Everything stopped.

Alarms.

Snow.

Pain.

All of it disappeared beneath those words.

Ivy stared at him in complete devastation while tears poured uncontrollably down her face.

Lucien’s eyes stayed fixed on her.

Gray.

Exhausted.

Open completely now.

No walls left.

No fear of vulnerability anymore.

Only truth.

“I tried not to,” he whispered weakly. “God, I tried.”

Ivy grabbed his face with shaking hands instantly.

“Stop talking like this.”

A faint breath escaped him.

Almost laughter.

“Still bossy.”

“You’re bleeding to death.”

“Minor inconvenience.”

“Lucien!”

Her voice broke violently.

The sound wrecked him more than the bullet had.

Lucien’s hand covered hers weakly against his cheek.

Warm blood coated both their skin.

“You called my name,” he murmured softly.

The memory hit instantly.

The SUV.

The panic.

The moment she screamed for him instinctively.

Lucien’s eyes closed briefly.

“I knew I’d burn the world down after that.”

Ivy sobbed harder immediately.

“Please don’t die.”

There it was.

The real fear.

Not violence.

Not blood.

Loss.

Lucien looked at her like the sound physically hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“No.” Ivy shook her head desperately. “No, no, don’t apologize, just stay with me—”

“Ivy.”

His breathing roughened sharply.

Matteo pressed hard against the wound while shouting into the phone for medics somewhere behind them.

Snow blew harder through the broken gates now.

Cold wind.

Flashing lights.

Blood everywhere.

Lucien’s fingers tightened weakly around Ivy’s hand.

Tiny movement.

Still there.

“I kept that wrapper,” he murmured softly.

Ivy broke completely.

“I know.”

“For twelve years.”

“I know.”

“Best thing that ever happened to me.”

The sentence destroyed her.

Absolutely destroyed her.

Ivy leaned down instantly and pressed her forehead hard against his while tears soaked both their faces.

“You don’t get to leave me,” she whispered brokenly. “You hear me? You don’t get to love me like this and leave.”

Lucien’s eyes opened slowly again.

And for one devastating second—

he looked like that sixteen-year-old boy in the snowstorm all over again.

Bleeding.

Lonely.

Looking at Ivy like she was the first warm thing he’d ever touched.

Then sirens screamed into the garage above them.

Matteo exhaled violently.

“MEDICS.”

Footsteps thundered down the stairs.

Voices.

Chaos.

But Lucien still only looked at Ivy.

Always Ivy.

And even bleeding out on cold concrete beneath flashing emergency lights—

Lucien Moretti smiled at her like surviving the first winter had always meant surviving her love too.