AN 8-YEAR-OLD BOY ASKED THE MAFIA BOSS A QUESTION NO ONE ELSE DARED TO AS

News travels fast in the Las Vegas underworld. By 2:00 p.m., the story of Cassius Wren showing up at an elementary school, escorting a third-grader, and personally wiping out a low-level debt had reached the top floor of the Obsidian Tower—the headquarters of Victor Vane.

Victor Vane was a different kind of monster than Cassius. Where Cassius was quiet, disciplined, and stoic, Vane was flamboyant, chaotic, and sadistic. He sat behind a glass desk overlooking the strip, swirling a glass of bourbon while listening to his lieutenant's report.

"He went to a school?" Vane asked, bursting into a loud, hysterical laugh. "Cassius Wren? The 'Ghost of the Strip'? He sat in a wooden chair for an eight-year-old's show-and-tell?"

"Yes, boss," the lieutenant replied nervously, his arm in a sling from his brief encounter with Cassius's men at the hospital. "And he cleared the girl's debt. He paid the full eighty grand into our account and threatened to tear down our downtown club if we went near the hospital again."

Vane stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed into slits. He set his glass down on the table with a sharp click.

"Cassius hasn't shown a shred of humanity in twenty-six years," Vane murmured, his fingers tapping the glass desk. "Not since his father was put in the ground. He's an iron vault. But now... now he's opening the door for a dishwasher's little brother?"

"What do you want us to do, boss? Should we press the girl?"

"No," Vane said, a dark, wicked smile spreading across his face. "If you hit a man's shield, he just grips it tighter. You don't hit the girl. You watch the boy. Find out why Cassius looks at that kid like he sees a ghost."

Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Maya had been transferred to a private VIP suite on the top floor—a move ordered personally by Cassius. The room had soft leather couches, a private bathroom, and a view of the mountains.

Eli sat on the couch, eating a sandwich provided by the hospital catering staff, while Maya sat up in bed, looking significantly better after receiving proper fluids and rest.

Cassius was standing near the door, his coat off, revealing his tailored waistcoat and holstered sidearm. He was looking at his phone, issuing brief commands to his captains regarding casino operations.

"Mr. Wren," Maya said softly from the bed.

Cassius lowered his phone. "Yes?"

"I don't know how to thank you," she said, her voice filled with genuine emotion. "You didn't just save my life... you saved Eli's future. But... I know who you are. I know what kind of world you live in. Is my brother in danger because you helped us?"

Cassius walked over to the edge of her bed. He looked down at her, his expression serious. "Your brother was already in danger, Miss Vance. In this city, being poor and unprotected is the most dangerous thing there is. At least now, people know who stands behind him."

"He talked about you all morning," Maya admitted, looking over at Eli. "He told me what he asked you on the roof last night."

Cassius was quiet for a moment. "He asked a question he shouldn't have had to ask at eight years old."

"He asks it because he thinks he has to survive everything on his own," Maya said tears welling up again. "Our parents... our father left us, and our mother passed away three years ago. I've tried my best, Mr. Wren. I really have. But I'm just one person."

"You did enough," Cassius said. "You kept him fed. You kept him honest. The rest... isn't your fault."

Eli set his sandwich down on the plate and walked over to Cassius. He looked up at the tall man. "Are you going back to the casino now?"

Cassius looked down at the boy. "I have business to attend to."

"Can I come?" Eli asked directly.

Maya gasped. "Eli! No! Mr. Wren is busy!"

Cassius held up a hand to stop Maya from scolding the boy. He stared down into Eli's eyes—those dry, unblinking eyes that mirrors his own past so acutely.

"Why do you want to come to the casino?" Cassius asked.

"Because you didn't finish answering my question," Eli said. "You told me how to stand up in front of the class. But you didn't tell me how to stand alone when the dark comes."