Chapter Five: Baptized by Fire
Julie woke with a start.
Sunlight cut across the room in golden slants, but it didn't chase away the dark. Not inside her. Not anymore.
It had been three days since the attack on the mansion.
Three days since she pulled the trigger.
Three days since she felt her old self die — and something new begin to take shape.
Lorenzo had given her space, but only physically. Emotionally, he was closer than ever. Watching. Waiting. Knowing that something had shifted between them, yet not daring to force it.
She stood in front of the mirror, dressed in black jeans, a fitted tank top, and boots.
No more soft sweaters and ballet flats.
No more pretending she didn't belong here.
She tied her hair back and walked out the door.
It was time to learn how to survive in his world — not as a lover or a pawn.
As a partner.
---
In the courtyard, Marco waited with his usual grim scowl, arms crossed, sunglasses hiding any emotion.
"You sure you want this?" he asked.
Julie nodded.
He tossed her a knife.
"Then let's begin."
The next hour was brutal.
Marco didn't go easy. He taught her how to disarm a man twice her size, how to find the weak points, how to use fear as leverage.
She fell. Got back up. Fell again. Her hands bled. Her ribs ached.
But she didn't stop.
Not once.
By the time the sun hit its peak, she stood panting in the gravel, sweat slicking her spine, knife still gripped tight.
Marco gave a single nod.
"You're tougher than you look."
"Don't flatter me," she muttered.
He cracked a rare smile. "I'm not."
---
Later that evening, Lorenzo watched from the balcony as Julie stood alone near the fountain. He hadn't spoken to her much since the attack. Not because he didn't want to — but because every time he looked at her, he saw the blood.
Her blood. Their blood. The blood of the life they could've had if he hadn't let his past devour it.
He couldn't lose her again.
And yet… he knew he would. Unless he told her the truth.
---
"Come with me," he said an hour later, meeting her outside the war room.
Julie arched an eyebrow. "Where?"
"Somewhere private."
He led her to a room she hadn't seen before — deep underground, past layers of security. Inside was a long table, a map of the city, stacks of files, and a single photo taped to the wall.
Her photo.
The one from her sister's wedding.
"I wanted to tell you," he said quietly, closing the door behind them.
Julie folded her arms. "Then tell me now."
Lorenzo's jaw clenched. "When I first met you, I didn't know who you were. You were just this bright, sarcastic girl in a bookstore, arguing with the clerk about poetry. I thought… maybe I could have something normal."
Julie's eyes softened. She remembered that day.
"But then I found out your father was Daniel Dumas."
She went still.
"My father is dead," she said carefully. "He was an accountant. That's all."
Lorenzo stepped closer. "He was an accountant… for the Lucetti family. Matteo trusted him. Until he didn't. Your father tried to leave the life. They killed him to send a message."
Julie's stomach twisted. "You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Her head spun. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because if you knew the truth, you'd come looking for answers. You'd get yourself killed."
She stepped back, voice shaking. "So you rejected me to protect me."
"Yes. And I hated myself for it every day."
Julie looked away, tears hot in her eyes. "You made me feel worthless."
"I thought it would keep you safe."
He moved closer, gently lifting her chin. "But I was wrong. You're not meant to be protected, Julie. You're meant to fight."
She met his gaze.
And for the first time, she saw the man behind the power — broken, bruised, but still burning.
And she realized she wasn't afraid anymore.
Of him.
Of the truth.
Of herself.
---
That night, she joined him in the war room.
Watched him command.
Spoke when she had insight.
Corrected Marco on a port schedule.
Even handed out a strategy that earned a look of respect from the oldest capo in Lorenzo's crew.
By midnight, no one questioned why she was there.
She wasn't the outsider anymore.
She was his.
And more importantly — he was hers.
---
But while they planned their next move against Matteo Lucetti, far away in a dark office, another figure watched a monitor.
A man in a tailored gray suit.
He stared at the surveillance footage of Julie inside Lorenzo's house.
He smiled.
Then pressed a button.
"Activate the sleeper," he said.