Jillian didn't hesitate. She grabbed her jacket, shoving her phone into her pocket as she turned toward the door.
"I need to go. Now."
Dante stepped in front of her. "You can't just run in there without thinking. If Victor did this, he might have people watching."
She clenched her fists. "I don't care. My grandmother—"
"Is safe," Leo's voice came through the phone, "but she's in shock. She's asking for you."
Jillian's stomach twisted. Her grandmother had already lost so much—first her daughter, and now the home she had built over the years. Jillian wasn't going to let Victor take anything more from them.
Dante sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. We'll go with you. But keep your head down."
Leo was already waiting with a car when they got outside. Jillian barely waited for the doors to unlock before jumping in. The ride felt like an eternity, the city lights flashing past, her thoughts racing.
Was this just a warning? Or was Victor planning something worse?
As they neared the village, the faint glow of firelight still flickered in the distance. The smell of smoke hit her first—thick, acrid, clinging to the air.
Jillian's pulse pounded. This wasn't just about her anymore. This was war.
The car screeched to a halt near what was left of the house. Smoke still lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of burning wood. The once-cozy home was now a blackened skeleton, its roof collapsed, its walls barely standing. A few embers still glowed beneath the charred remains.
Jillian threw the door open before the car even fully stopped. Her legs felt numb as she rushed forward, scanning the area frantically.
"Grandma?!"
Then, she saw her.
Her grandmother sat on a bench near the edge of the property, wrapped in a thick blanket. Her hands trembled slightly, her eyes distant, as if she was still processing the nightmare.
Jillian fell to her knees in front of her. "Grandma, I'm here," she said, her voice softer now, trying to hold back the lump in her throat.
The older woman blinked, then reached out, her fingers curling around Jillian's hand. "You came," she whispered.
"Of course I did." Jillian fought back the tears.
Behind them, Dante and Leo scanned the scene. Leo spoke quietly with one of the neighbors, while Dante eyed the burnt remains with a calculating look.
"This was intentional," he murmured to himself.
Jillian knew that. But right now, she needed to be here for her grandmother.
Then, Leo returned, looking grim.
"Victor's men were spotted nearby before the fire started."
Jillian's jaw clenched. So, it really was him.
But why? What was Victor trying to prove?
As she turned back to her grandmother, a single thought settled in her mind.
This wasn't over. Not even close.
Jillian sat beside her grandmother, holding her frail hand tightly. The older woman hadn't said much since she arrived, only whispering her name and squeezing her fingers as if afraid she would disappear too.
The fire had taken everything. The home where her grandmother had lived for years was nothing but ashes. Jillian felt rage boiling inside her, but she couldn't break down now.
Dante crouched beside them, his voice low. "She can't stay here. It's too dangerous."
Jillian swallowed hard. "I know."
Leo glanced over his shoulder. "I heard the neighbors say someone was lurking near the house before the fire started. They're scared, Jill. Whoever did this isn't just sending a message—they're watching."
That sent a chill down her spine.
Jillian turned back to her grandmother. "We need to leave, Grandma. I won't let them hurt you."
The old woman nodded weakly, but there was something else in her tired eyes—a quiet warning, as if she knew this wasn't just about a fire.
Dante stood up. "I'll find a safe place for her. But Jillian, Victor crossed a line tonight. We need to hit back."
Jillian's grip on her grandmother's hand tightened. This wasn't just revenge anymore.
It was survival.
Jillian helped her grandmother into Dante's car, securing the seatbelt gently. The older woman was still weak, her body trembling slightly, but her grip on Jillian's hand was strong.
"Don't let them win," her grandmother whispered before Jillian closed the door.
She stepped back as Dante got in the driver's seat, giving her a firm nod before pulling away into the night. Her grandmother would be safe. That was all that mattered.
Now, it was time to deal with Victor.
Leo stood beside her, his hands in his pockets. "So, what's the plan?"
Jillian exhaled slowly, turning to face him. The hesitation she once had was gone.
"No more hiding. No more waiting. We're going to make Victor regret ever touching my family."
Leo smirked. "That's what I like to hear."
Jillian glanced at the burnt remains of the house one last time, the flames still burning in her memory. Victor wanted to send a message.
Now, she would send one back.
Dante had already thought ahead. Instead of taking Jillian's grandmother to a well-known location, he arranged for her to stay in a secluded countryside home owned by an old friend. It was far from Victor's reach, hidden among thick trees, with only a few trusted people knowing its location.
The house belonged to Mrs. Adelaide Carter, a retired doctor who had once helped Dante in the past. She lived alone, and with her medical knowledge, she could also care for Jillian's grandmother if needed.
As Dante pulled up to the house, he glanced at the older woman in the back seat. "You'll be safe here. Adelaide is a good woman, and she owes me a favor."
The front door opened before he even knocked, and a woman in her sixties stepped out, her sharp eyes scanning the scene.
"Dante Cruz. You never bring good news."
Dante smirked. "You wouldn't like me if I did."
Adelaide's gaze softened when she noticed Jillian's grandmother. "Come in, dear. You must be exhausted."
As she led the elderly woman inside, Dante stayed by the door, scanning the surroundings one last time. No threats. No signs of Victor's men.
For now, at least, Jillian's grandmother was safe.
Jillian sat on the porch of Mrs. Adelaide Carter's countryside home, staring into the distance. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, but her mind was anything but peaceful.
Her grandmother was resting inside, recovering from the shock of the fire. Adelaide had been kind, offering tea and warm blankets, but Jillian knew this place was only a temporary refuge. She couldn't stay here forever.
Leo sat on the steps beside her, tossing a small rock between his hands. "You're quiet."
Jillian sighed. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
She looked at him. "About how this isn't over. Hiding won't fix anything."
Leo chuckled. "Didn't think you were the type to sit around."
She smirked. "I'm not. That's why I need to do something."
Dante stepped out of the house, arms crossed. "Good. Because I've been thinking too."
Jillian raised an eyebrow. "And?"
Dante exhaled. "We might be this far, but Victor's reach is long. If he finds out where you are, he won't hesitate. We need to be ready."
Jillian nodded. "Then let's prepare."
The countryside might have been peaceful, but it was only the calm before the storm.