He Told Chicago She Was Nobody to Him... Then He Found Her Bruised in the Snow and Burned His Own Empire to Bring Her Home

The sound of gunfire was deafening, but it was unlike any shootout Ren had ever imagined. There were no dramatic shouts, only the rhythmic, terrifying thud-thud-thud of suppressed weapons and the clinking of spent brass casings hitting the concrete.

Gerald’s men on the catwalks were taken down before they could aim. They fell from the iron railings like broken dolls, crashing into the rusted machinery below.

Gerald panicked. Seeing his defense crumble in seconds, he grabbed Ren by her hair, pulling her head back. "Back off! Silas, I swear to God, I'll paint this floor with her!"

Ren gasped as the pain flared through her scalp, but she didn't scream. She looked past Gerald's trembling gun and met Silas’s eyes.

In that moment, she didn't see the feared mob boss of Chicago. She saw a man who was terrified of losing her. The raw, bleeding vulnerability in his gaze stripped away all her doubts.

He lied, she realized. He lied to protect me.

"Gerald," Silas said, stepping forward. He walked slowly, deliberately, ignoring the stray bullets that chipped the concrete near his feet. "You think you know me. You think you can bargain with me."

"I have the gun, Silas!"

"You have a toy," Silas corrected, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. He was only ten feet away now. "If you pull that trigger, you will die before she hits the ground. And I won't just kill you, Gerald. I will find every person who ever loved you, every person who ever took a dollar from you, and I will erase them from this earth."

Gerald's hand began to shake violently. The absolute certainty in Silas's voice was paralyzing.

"Now," Silas said, taking another step. "Let her go."

In a desperate, cowardly panic, Gerald didn't shoot. Instead, he shoved Ren’s chair forward, using her as a shield while he turned to run toward a fire exit in the dark corners of the warehouse.

Ren’s chair tipped over. She braced for the impact, but before she could hit the hard concrete, a pair of strong, heavy arms caught her.

Silas went down to his knees, cradling her in his arms. He didn't look at the fleeing Gerald. He let Reed and his men chase him down. His entire universe had shrunk to the woman in his arms.

"Ren," Silas gasped, his voice breaking. His hands, usually so steady and lethal, were trembling violently as he pulled a pocket knife to slice through her ropes. "Ren, look at me. I've got you. I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry."

As soon as her hands were free, Ren didn't push him away. She reached up, her cold fingers touching his face, ignoring the dirt and the blood.