"YOU'RE JUST THE HELP," HIS FIANCÉE SNEERED—THEN THE BILLIONAIRE MAFIA DON SHED HIS COAT, CROWNED HER WITH HIS NAME, AND BURNED THE ENTIRE CITY DOWN FOR HER

When the SUV screeched into the underground garage of the Duca Penthouse Tower, the air smelled of ozone, gunsmoke, and broken glass.

Matteo didn't wait for the elevator. He drew his weapon and led Lena through the stairwell, clearing each floor with ruthless speed until they reached the 70th-floor penthouse.

The heavy steel security doors of the penthouse hung open, pierced by industrial breaching charges. Inside, two Duca bodyguards lay unconscious on the floor, treated with military-grade stun grenades.

"Maya!" Lena screamed, rushing through the debris into the media room.

The room was empty. The television was still playing cartoons, but Maya's favorite pink unicorn blanket lay discarded on the floor, stained with soot.

Lena dropped to her knees, clutching the blanket to her chest, a sound of pure agony tearing from her throat. "No, no, no! Maya!"

Matteo walked into the room, his face transformed into a mask of pure, demonic rage. He knelt beside his wounded lieutenant, grabbing him by the vest. "Report!"

"Boss..." the guard groaned, coughing up blood. "It was... Carmine Vitali himself... with twenty men. They used military flashbangs. They took the girl... and Maria. Carmine left a message."

The guard pointed to the large glass window overlooking the city.

Written in crimson spray paint across the glass was an address in the industrial docks of Red Hook, Brooklyn, along with four words:

THE DON DIES TONIGHT.

Matteo stood up slowly. The sheer aura of death radiating from him made the very air in the penthouse feel freezing cold.

Lena scrambled to her feet, grabbing Matteo’s lapels, her eyes wild with grief and desperation. "We have to go! We have to save her, Matteo! He’s going to kill her!"

Matteo reached up, his large hands cupping her face, forcing her to look into his eyes. His gaze was terrifyingly calm—the calm of an extinction-level hurricane.

"Carmine Vitali thinks he took a six-year-old girl to lure me into a trap," Matteo said, his voice dropping to a deadly, gravelly whisper. "He thinks he has leverage."

He pulled Lena closer, his forehead resting against hers. "He doesn't realize he just signed a death warrant for every single person who carries the Vitali name. Lena, you stay with the tactical squad—"

"No!" Lena choked out, her voice hard as diamond. "I am coming with you. Clara died alone. I will not let Maya die alone. Give me a gun."

Matteo stared at her for three long seconds. In her eyes, he saw no fear, no hesitation—only the fierce, untamed fire of a mother protecting her child.