Feeling the weight of Mrs. Gable’s cryptic warnings, Aria watched Leo play. His laughter, bright and clear, echoed through the manicured gardens, a stark contrast to the shadowed thoughts swirling in her mind. He chased a vibrant butterfly, his small legs pumping with unbridled joy. She couldn't shake the housekeeper's words about Xander's world, about the dangers, about her becoming a target. Every rustle of leaves, every distant sound, felt amplified. A chill, despite the warm spring air, traced its way down her spine. Leo was her anchor, her only true light in this opulent, yet often suffocating, cage. Observing him, so innocent and full of life, solidified her resolve. She would protect him. At all costs. Even from Xander's enemies. Especially from Xander's enemies. Suddenly, a sharp crack split the air. Not loud, but jarring. Leo, caught mid-stride, stumbled. A heavy terracotta pot, dislodged from a high ledge of the conservatory, careened downwards. It wasn't directly above him, but its trajectory was close. Too close. From the corner of her eye, Aria saw Xander. He had been on the patio, engrossed in a call, his back to them. But the sound, or perhaps some instinct, had made him turn. His phone clattered to the ground, forgotten. His voice, a primal roar, ripped through the calm. “Leo!” Aria’s heart leapt into her throat. She started to move, but Xander was already a blur of motion. His long strides covered the distance to Leo in an instant, a speed she hadn’t thought him capable of. Xander’s eyes, usually cool and calculating, blazed with an intensity that bordered on fury. He moved with a brutal grace, pulling Leo into his arms. The pot shattered on the flagstones precisely where Leo had been standing moments before, fragments spraying outwards like shrapnel. A gasp escaped Aria’s lips. Her legs felt weak. Gently, Xander lowered Leo, his hands running over the boy's head, checking for injury. Leo, startled but unharmed, looked up at Xander with wide, innocent eyes. The gardener, who had been working near the conservatory, rushed over, his face pale with apology.