The silence after the explosion was unnerving—like the world itself had gone mute.
Leonardo stood at the shattered doorway of the Swiss villa, blood still drying on his temple, arms locked around Noor as if letting go would unravel reality. They had survived—barely.
But Noor's expression had changed. She wasn't trembling, nor angry. She was calm. Too calm.
"I can't go through that again," she whispered, her voice quieter than the wind.
"You won't have to," Leonardo said instantly.
Noor pulled away, her eyes meeting his. "Don't promise what you can't control."
The distance between them wasn't measured in steps—it was trust strained to its limits.
That night, Noor didn't sleep.
She sat near the open balcony, staring out into the snow-blanketed forest, Quran in her lap, lips moving in soft recitation. Leonardo watched her from the doorway, guilt gnawing at his ribs.
He hadn't just endangered her body—he'd shaken her faith in his word.
He walked over, hesitating before sitting across from her on the carpeted floor.
"You said once that your book... gives you strength," he said. "Does it still?"
Noor didn't look up. "Only when I'm not pretending I can handle things alone."
Leonardo nodded slowly. "Teach me."
Noor turned to him sharply. "What?"
"I've seen you stare death in the face without trembling," he said. "I've seen your prayers become armor. I need to understand that."
The next few days changed everything.
Noor became his quiet teacher. She didn't push religion down his throat—but she explained.
Why she covered.Why she prayed five times.Why she believed that even in pain, there was purpose.
Leonardo listened—not like a man seeking conversion, but like someone gasping for air. He began fasting with her, reading translations, watching documentaries about Islam.
One morning, he surprised her by performing wudu on his own.
She smiled. "You remembered the steps."
"I've memorized war plans in six languages," he said dryly. "This was harder."
But danger wasn't done with them.
Matteo arrived with new intelligence. The remaining lieutenants in the Moretti network had started splitting—some loyal to Leonardo, others aligning with Rahim, now funding European operations using his brother's stolen crypto wallets.
"What about Noor's brother?" Leonardo asked.
"Gone underground. But he's either going to be killed by Rahim's men or used as bait."
Noor went still.
Leonardo turned to her. "You don't have to decide now—"
"We save him," she said.
"It's a trap," Matteo warned. "They're counting on you to try."
"Then we don't walk in," Leonardo said. "We rewrite the rules."
The Plan.
Leonardo didn't want Noor involved—but she insisted.
"If you keep shielding me," she said, "you'll never respect what I'm capable of."
So she was the one who contacted her brother. Sent a coded voice note through an old friend. She offered him a choice: trust her one last time, or die hiding.
He responded with a whisper of coordinates: A mosque under renovation in Lyon, France.
A trap. Noor knew it. So did Leonardo.
But Noor had one weapon no one expected.
Her faith.
The Journey to Lyon
They traveled in silence. The rented van was cold, and the roads were slick with black ice.
Leonardo drove while Noor sat beside him, notebook open, scribbling maps and timelines.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered.
"You were built for this," Leonardo said.
She glanced at him. "I was built for modesty and tea-making, according to society."
"You were built for more," he replied. "You just didn't have anyone brave enough to say it out loud."
Lyon. The Mosque. Midnight.
It was eerie—silent walls, scaffolding shadows, broken windows covered with plastic sheeting.
Noor entered first, wearing a black hijab, calm as ever.
Leonardo followed two minutes later through the west entrance.
They split.
Noor found her brother—chained to a pillar, bloodied, delirious. But alive.
She knelt beside him, whispering duas, then cut his binds with a blade Leonardo had tucked into her sleeve.
But it was a setup. Cameras flickered on. Red lasers danced across the walls.
Rahim's men emerged from behind the mihrab.
Leonardo didn't hesitate. He shot the power grid. Darkness fell.
Gunfire exploded.
Noor dragged her brother across the floor while bullets flew overhead. Leonardo's voice echoed: "Out the north door, now!"
A flashlight beam landed on Noor.
She spun—faced a gun barrel.
Before she could react, her brother threw himself between her and the shooter—taking the bullet meant for her.
"No!" she screamed.
Leonardo stormed in, gunned down the attacker, grabbed her arm. "We have to go!"
Escape.
They fled the scene, Noor cradling her brother in her lap as they sped through Lyon's backstreets. His pulse was faint.
"Don't you dare die," she kept whispering. "Don't you dare!"
Leonardo drove like a madman, blood dripping from his shoulder. He didn't care.
He got them to a hidden clinic by dawn.
Her brother would survive. Barely.
Three Days Later.
Noor hadn't spoken since that night.
She sat by her brother's bedside, Quran in hand, reciting softly.
Leonardo stood in the hallway, blood-soaked bandage on his shoulder, refusing to leave.
When she finally walked out, he braced himself.
She didn't yell. She didn't cry.
She just looked at him and said, "If I didn't believe in fate, I would've cursed you."
His voice cracked. "And now?"
"I believe we were meant to destroy something darker than both of us," she said. "And I believe you're trying."
He moved closer. "But is it enough?"
She looked into his eyes and whispered, "Not yet. But it's more than I ever expected from you."
The Final Pages: Leonardo's Step Toward Faith
That night, Leonardo asked her to teach him how to pray.
"Not perfectly," he said. "But sincerely."
She smiled. "That's all that matters."
As he stood beside her in prayer, awkward and uncertain, Noor realized something had changed forever.
This wasn't about survival anymore.
It was about transformation.
Leonardo wasn't just protecting her now.
He was trying to become someone worthy of being protected by God.
To be continued in Chapter 12…