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.

The basement of my Gold Coast mansion was transformed into a command bunker and a makeshift intensive care unit. For three agonizing days, my body underwent a brutal detoxification process. High doses of Prussian blue and chelating drugs flushed the toxic thallium from my organs.

I suffered through feverish nights, violent seizures, and bouts of intense pain where every nerve in my body felt like it was being set ablaze. But every time I opened my eyes, Elena was sitting in the chair beside my bed, bathing my forehead with a cold cloth, while Sofia drew pictures at the nearby desk.

By the fourth day, the trembling in my hands stopped. The coldness retreated, replaced by the natural fire that had pushed me to the top of the underworld at twenty-two.

"His blood levels are stabilizing," Dr. Harris reported to Mateo, holding up a glass vial. "The neurological damage was caught just in time. In forty-eight hours, he'll be at eighty percent strength."

"Eighty percent is enough to kill Arthur Vale," I said, sitting upright and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I tore the IV line from my arm, ignoring the small drop of blood that welled on my skin.

"Julian, you need to rest!" Elena protested, coming over to stop me.

"I've rested enough, Elena," I said softly, looking up into her eyes. "For two years, I was dying in slow motion while my enemies plotted around me. Now, I'm awake."

I walked over to the large steel table in the center of the subterranean war room. Spread across it was a detailed map of Chicago, marked with red and blue pins. Mateo stood on the opposite side, his face grim.

"What's the situation on the streets?" I asked.

"It's an all-out war, Boss," Mateo replied. "When Vanessa returned to her father, Arthur Vale declared that you were dead and that the Mercer Syndicate was officially disbanded. They've seized three of our shipping ports, shut down our illegal casinos in the Loop, and placed a two-million-dollar bounty on your head."

"And the Street Capos?"

"They're split," Mateo admitted reluctantly. "Half of them believe you're dead. The other half are hiding, waiting to see who comes out on top. If you don't show your face publicly soon, the entire city will fall into Vale's hands."

"Then we give them a show," I declared.

"Julian," Elena said, stepping closer to the table, her hands trembling slightly. "You can't just walk out there. Arthur Vale has hundreds of mercenary soldiers. They aren't just street thugs—they're ex-military contractors hired from overseas."

I turned to her, my expression softening. "Elena, eight years ago, when I left you on the South Side, I did it because I thought my world would destroy you. I thought keeping my distance was protecting you. I was wrong. The only way to keep you and Sofia safe is to eliminate every threat standing between us."

Elena looked at me, tears glistening in her eyes. "I didn't keep Sofia a secret out of malice, Julian. I saw what this life did to my brothers, to my father. I wanted her to have a normal life—a life without guns, blood, and fear."

"I know," I said gently, touching her cheek. "And I promise you, once this war is over, she will have that life. But first, I have to finish what Arthur Vale started."

Sofia walked up to me, tugging on the hem of my black suit jacket. I kneeled down so I was eye-level with my daughter.

"Are you going to beat up the bad guys?" she asked innocently.

"I'm going to make sure the bad guys never bother us again," I promised her.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, metallic object—a worn silver charm of Saint Michael, the patron saint of protection. She placed it in my palm. "My mom gave this to me. It keeps the monsters away. You take it."

I closed my fist around the small piece of metal, feeling its weight. "Thank you, little one. I'll bring it right back."

I stood up and turned to Mateo. "Call a meeting of the Commission. Tell the heads of all five Chicago families that Julian Mercer is holding a sit-down at the Drake Hotel tomorrow midnight."