Gemma’s POV
"Auntie Gemma?" Vincenzo’s voice drifted from inside the Thorne family safe house.
"Here on the terrace, Vincenzo," I called back, lacking the energy to move from my position on the wrought-iron chaise lounge overlooking the fortified compound grounds.
He appeared at the bulletproof glass doorway, his young face creased with concern as he took in my languid form sprawled among the cushions. "Are you feeling alright, auntie?"
"Yes, sweetheart, just having one of those heavy days." The bone-deep exhaustion that had been haunting me for weeks felt particularly oppressive this morning, even with the armed sentries maintaining their vigilant watch around the perimeter.
"Hmm. Can I get you anything?" His earnestness made my chest tighten with affection.
After considering for a moment, I managed a weary smile. "That decadent chocolate torte from the kitchen with extra ganache frosting would be perfect."
His face brightened with conspiratorial delight. "I think I’ll grab two slices." He shot me a mischievous wink.
"Then summon Carmen and make it three," I suggested, suddenly craving companionship as much as the rich sweetness.
Soon, the three of us had gathered on the secured terrace, indulging in the luxurious dessert. I devoured my portion with surprising voracity, even sneaking forkfuls from Vincenzo’s plate when mine vanished too quickly.
"Want more, auntie?" Vincenzo laughed, graciously sliding his plate toward me.
"I should probably stop," I sighed, though the temptation remained fierce.
"Chocolate torte before lunch?" Dominic’s amused baritone joined our gathering as he emerged from the reinforced doorway, looking devastatingly handsome despite the shoulder holster visible beneath his tailored jacket.
"A minor transgression, my dangerous man," I smiled up at him. "Care for some?"
"No thank you, Songbird," he declined, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my temple before settling beside me on the lounge. "So what’s the plan for today?"
Vincenzo took command, announcing with impressive authority, "Nothing strenuous. Today we’re maintaining low activity, staying quiet and letting auntie Gemma recuperate, because she’s been feeling drained."
Dominic’s dark eyebrows rose sharply. "Really? Is everyone functioning normally?"
"And why wouldn’t we be?" I asked, finding his reaction oddly suspicious.
"Because you’re typically the most energetic person in this compound, and these two can never sit still for more than a few minutes," Dominic observed, studying each of us with the calculating gaze of a seasoned Capo. "Who are you people and what have you done with my household?"
We burst into laughter, and warmth flooded through me at his casual claim of ownership over our makeshift family unit. "We’ll behave ourselves today," I promised, resting my head against his muscular thigh. Within moments, I had drifted into unconsciousness.
When I surfaced from sleep, I found myself transported to our heavily secured bedroom, a cashmere throw draped over my body. The digital clock revealed it was mid-afternoon – I had been unconscious for several hours. This unusual lethargy had been plaguing me for days now.


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