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Chapter 6 - The Iron KingThe back door didn't just open this time; it was kicked off its hinges, crashing inward with a deafening thud.

Alexander Moretti stood in the doorway.

His coat was gone, replaced by a black tactical turtleneck and dark cargo pants. In his right hand, he held a suppressed tactical rifle, the barrel still warm and smoking slightly. A streak of dried blood smeared across his jawline, and his eyes burned with a terrifying, apocalyptic fury. He looked less like a corporate tycoon and more like the grim reaper himself.

He scanned the room in a fraction of a second, his gaze landing on Elena, who was kneeling protectively over the bleeding German Shepherd, her hands covered in blood.

Alexander dropped his rifle to a sling, crossed the room in two massive strides, and hauled Elena up by her elbows, pulling her straight against his chest.

"Are you hit?" he demanded, his voice trembling—just slightly—as his hands gripped her shoulders, checking her over for injuries with frantic speed.

"I... I'm fine," Elena breathed, completely stunned by the raw, unfiltered panic in the eyes of the city's most feared man. "The... the courier is in the front. He's bleeding out, and your dog... the dog needs help."

Alexander looked past her, nodding sharply to two tactical operatives who flooded into the room behind him, immediately going to work on the wounded courier and the German Shepherd. Then, Alexander looked back down at Elena, his hands sliding down to cup her face, his thumb gently wiping a smudge of soot from her cheek.

"I told you this city was dangerous, Elena," he murmured, his face inches from hers. "I told you that being near me is a death sentence."

"Then why did you bring your dog here in the first place?" she asked, her voice cracking with a mix of adrenaline, exhaustion, and sudden, fierce anger. "Why drag an innocent person into your war?"

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"Because," Alexander whispered, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate gravel that made her heart skip a beat, "Ajax doesn't trust anyone. But the night he was dying, he crawled to your doorstep. If my most ruthless tracker trusts your soul with his life... then I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were the only person in this city I could trust with mine."

Elena stared into his icy gray eyes, seeing past the blood, past the mafia empire, past the terror—seeing a lonely, scarred man who had just found the only safe harbor in his violent world.

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