A7.Elena’s knuckles turned white around the pile of fresh linens in her arms. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, panicked breaths, her eyes darting toward Vanessa before settling back on me.

"Don't touch them!" I roared, forcing my trembling legs to stand. The sheer force of adrenaline broke through the synthetic fog in my brain. I stumbled forward, throwing my body between Dominic’s gun and Elena’s small family.

"Julian, sit down," Vanessa commanded, her voice icy. "You're embarrassing yourself. You can barely stand."

"If you shoot them, Dominic," I growled, my lungs burning, "you'll have to put a bullet through me first. And the Commission will never accept a boss who assassinated Julian Mercer in his own bed without a sit-down. You know the rules of the Outfit."

Dominic hesitated, his gun hand wavering. In the Chicago underground, legitimacy was everything. Killing a boss in cold blood without the Syndicate Council's approval meant an instant death sentence from every caporegime in the city.

"He's right, Dominic," Elena spoke up, her voice surprisingly steady despite the tear running down her cheek. She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an old, worn leather ledger. "If Julian dies tonight, this ledger goes directly to the FBI and the rival families in Detroit."

Vanessa laughed hysterically. "What is that? A recipe book?"

"It’s the ledger of the South Side distribution network from eight years ago," Elena said, stepping forward. " Julian gave it to my father for safekeeping before he took the crown. It contains every offshore account, every bribe to the Chicago PD, and every illegal contract signed by the Vale family. Julian trusted my family back then. And I still have it."

Dominic's eyes narrowed. "Is that true, Julian?"

"Every word," I lied smoothly, catching Elena's subtle drift. The ledger was real, but whether it had the Vale family's names was a gamble. Yet, Elena’s quick thinking had brought us a fraction of a second.

"Hand it over, girl," Dominic ordered.

"No," Sofia spoke up, her tiny voice piercing the heavy air. She looked straight into Dominic's eyes without flinching. "My dad said bad people always take things that aren't theirs."

Dominic froze, staring at the child. He looked from her face to mine, realizing the undeniable resemblance. "Is she... yours, Julian?"

"She's a Mercer," I said, my voice filled with a fierce, quiet pride that cut through the room. "And if you kill a child of the Mercer bloodline, Dominic, there isn't a dark corner in North America where you'll be safe from the men who still stay loyal to my father's memory."

"Dominic, don't listen to him!" Vanessa screamed. "Shoot them all! My father has three hundred men ready to secure the docks! We don't need the Council!"

"Shut up, Vanessa!" Dominic barked. The mention of the bloodline had changed the political math entirely. A boss without an heir was replaceable. A boss with a direct line meant a blood feud that could tear Chicago apart for generations.

"Dr. Harris," I said calmly, taking advantage of the hesitation. "Take the tea. Take the blood samples from my arm. Walk out of here and deliver them to Capo Vincenzo at the West Side hub. Tell him the Vales are poisoning the Outfit."

"He isn't leaving!" Vanessa raised her gun toward Dr. Harris.

BANG.

A shot echoed through the master bedroom, shattering a glass cabinet of antique crystal. But the shot didn't come from Vanessa, nor Dominic.

It came from the doorway, where Mateo—my head of security and Dominic's younger brother—stood with a smoking rifle.

"That's enough," Mateo said, stepping into the room with ten heavily armed loyalist soldiers behind him. "Dominic, put the gun down. You let this snake of a woman twist your head. The street bosses just caught Vale's men trying to take over the Fulton Market warehouse. It's a coup by the Vales, not a transition."

Dominic’s face turned white as he realized he had been played by Vanessa and her father. "Vanessa... you said my family would control the West Side."

"You fool," Vanessa sneered, realizing her cover was completely blown. She backed toward the balcony doors as rain poured outside. "You're all street thugs! My family ran this city long before you Italian and Irish upstarts took over!"

Before anyone could grab her, Vanessa threw open the balcony doors, slipped into the pouring rain, and disappeared down the exterior fire staircase meant for emergency evacuations.

"After her!" Mateo yelled.

"No," I ordered, collapsing onto the edge of the bed as my muscles finally gave out from the exertion. "Let her run to her father. It gives us time."

Dominic dropped his weapon to the carpet, falling to his knees. "Julian... I was blind. I thought you were dying... I thought I was saving the syndicate from falling into chaos."

I looked down at my former right-hand man. In our world, treason was punished by a bullet to the back of the head. But tonight, I needed every loyal gun I could muster.

"You're stripped of your rank, Dominic," I said coldly. "Mateo takes the rank of Underboss. You will fight on the front lines against the Vale family tomorrow. If you survive, we'll discuss your redemption."

Dominic bowed his head. "Thank you, Boss."

As the guards cleared the room and Mateo went to secure the mansion's perimeter, Dr. Harris immediately rushed over, drawing a fresh tube of blood. "Mr. Mercer, we need to flush your system with heavy-metal chelating agents right now. The thallium poisoning is severe. If we don't start the IV drip within the hour, cardiac arrest is guaranteed."

Elena stepped forward, grabbing my cold hand. Her skin was warm, a sharp contrast to the creeping death inside me. "You're going to make it, Julian. You have to."