A MAFIA BOSS WATCHED A SIX-YEAR-OLD GIRL COUNT COINS FOR BREAD AND BANANAS, BUT WHEN HE SAW HER SICK MOTHER WAITING OUTSIDE, HE REALIZED THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN HUNTING THEM WAS SOMEONE HE SHOULD HAVE STOPPED FOUR YEARS AGO

Night fell over the city, wrapping the Malone estate in a blanket of thick fog.

Down in the subterranean war room beneath the mansion—a room lined with encrypted monitors, tactical maps, and secure communications gear—Connor sat at the head of a long steel table. Surrounding him were his three chief lieutenants: Liam, his head of security; Marcus, his financial enforcer; and Viktor, an information broker who knew every secret buried beneath the city's concrete.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy, thick with the scent of dark coffee and unvented rage.

"We ran the trace on Daniel Webb," Viktor said, sliding a thick manila folder across the table toward Connor. "It's worse than we thought, Boss."

Connor opened the folder. Inside were surveillance photographs of Daniel Webb. The man had changed drastically over four years. The easy smile was gone, replaced by the hollow, gaunt look of a hard-core gambling addict and junkie.

"Where is he?" Connor asked, his tone deceptively calm.

"He's running a high-stakes illegal underground casino in the North Side docks," Viktor explained. "Under the direct protection of Boris Romanov. But that's not the worst part, Connor."

Marcus leaned forward, tapping a financial ledger in the folder. "Daniel didn't just abandon Sarah and Gracie. He sold Thomas Vance's old properties—the ones Thomas left in a private land trust for Sarah—to Romanov for pennies on the dollar to clear his own debts. And when Romanov realized Sarah still had legal power of attorney over Thomas’s remaining estate, Romanov put a bounty on her."

Connor’s eyes narrowed into dark, murderous slits. "Romanov has been actively hunting her?"

"Yes," Marcus confirmed. "Romanov wanted her dead or forced into signing away the land deeds before she could figure out what they were worth. That land on the waterfront? The city just rezoned it for a fifty-million-dollar commercial port development. Sarah is sitting on a fortune, and she doesn't even know it."

Liam slammed a heavy fist onto the steel table. "That coward left his dying wife and six-year-old child to freeze in a slum while he sat on Romanov's lap, hiding behind Russian muscle!"

"He thought Sarah would die quietly in the slum," Connor said, his voice dropping an octave, sounding like grinding stones. "He thought no one was watching."

"What are your orders, Boss?" Liam asked, his hand drifting toward the weapon holstered beneath his arm. "Do we call in the soldiers? Romanov has thirty armed guys at the North Side docks."

Connor stood up slow and deliberate. He smoothed down the lapels of his charcoal suit coat.

"No soldiers," Connor said coldly. "If we march an army into the North Side, Romanov will go into hiding, and Daniel will run like the rat he is. We do this quietly. We do this personally."

"Connor," Marcus warned gently. "You haven't stepped into the field yourself in four years. Not since Thomas died. The peace agreement between our family and Romanov—"

"The peace agreement died the moment Romanov hunted Thomas Vance's daughter," Connor cut him off, his eyes flashing with a terrifying, ancient fire. "Thomas took a bullet for me, Marcus. I am taking the city back for his blood."

Connor turned to Liam. "Set up a meeting. Tell Romanov I want to buy into his waterfront development scheme. Tell him I’m coming alone with a cash offer he can't refuse."