HE FIRED THE WOMAN WHO MADE HIS SILENT DAUGHTERS LAUGH—THEN FOUND THEIR CRAYON LETTER

The gunshot echoed through the high ceilings of the mansion like a thunderclap, instantly shattering the fragile peace we had built.

"UPSTAIRS!" I roared.

I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. Every paternal instinct I possessed exploded into action. I surged past the coffee table, shoving Victoria aside, and sprinted up the grand staircase three steps at a time. Hannah was right behind me, her sneakers squeaking against the polished hardwood.

"LEO! GIRLS!" I screamed as I turned the corner into the east wing corridor.

The heavy oak door to the girls' playroom was battered inward, its frame splintered. Inside, the room was in total chaos. Broken glass from the shattered balcony window covered the sheepskin rug. Leo was pinned against the bookshelf by a towering, broad-shouldered man in dark tactical gear, a trail of blood running down Leo's temple from where he’d been struck.

Standing in the center of the room, holding a sleek black suppressed pistol, was an older man. He wore an expensive charcoal suit, his hair swept back in silver precision. His face was a hardened, colder version of Emily’s.

Arthur Vance.

Beside him, two armed mercenaries held Lily, Grace, and Sophie. The girls weren't screaming—their horror was too deep, their little bodies shaking as they pressed against each other, Sophie clutching her velvet rabbit to her chest.

"Marcus," Arthur said smoothly, his voice devoid of any warmth or familial blood. "You always were a remarkably predictable man. You run toward the noise while leaving your perimeter completely wide open."

"Get your hands off my children!" I snarled, stepping into the room, my body shielding Hannah as she pushed past me to assess Leo's condition.

"Dad! Don't!" Leo choked out from the floor, struggling against the weight of the guard holding him down.

"Quiet," Arthur ordered coldly, not even looking at Leo. He turned his piercing grey eyes toward me. "I’m not here to massacre my own flesh and blood, Marcus. Despite what Victoria has undoubtedly told you downstairs, I am a businessman. I built an empire that Nathan Evans nearly destroyed with his sloppy, emotional antics."

"You let him kill your daughter!" I screamed, my fists shaking so violently my knuckles turned ghost-white. "Emily was your child!"

Arthur’s jaw tightened, a fleeting shadow of anger crossing his features before his expression hardened back into stone. "Emily made a choice. She chose to interfere in matters far beyond her understanding. She brought this upon herself. Now, where is her diary?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage while my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped beast.

Arthur slowly raised the pistol, pointing it directly at Sophie’s chest.

Sophie let out a tiny whimpering sob, burying her face into Lily’s shoulder.

"Do not test me, Marcus," Arthur whispered, his thumb pulling back the hammer with a sharp, terrifying click. "I have spent ten years hiding in the dark. I will not spend the rest of my life in a federal penitentiary because of a misplaced sense of sentimentality. The diary. Now. Or you can watch me take what is left of your family piece by piece."

"STATIONARY!" Hannah suddenly shouted, stepping out from behind me, her voice ringing out with absolute, unflinching authority.

Arthur’s eyes flicked to her. "What?"

"The diary isn't in the study, you monster!" Hannah lied boldly, her chest heaving as she held Arthur's cold gaze. "Emily knew you’d come for it if Nathan failed! She didn't leave it in a box! She left it in the old family estate vault in the basement behind the wine cellars!"

Arthur stared at Hannah, evaluating the sheer conviction in her voice. "The nurse. The one who ruined my operations in the ICU."

"The nurse who watched your daughter die while she whispered your name in disgust!" Hannah spat, taking a step forward. "You want the decryption keys? They're downstairs. But Marcus doesn't know the combination to the inner safe. I do. Emily told me."

I looked at Hannah in sheer shock, but her eyes gave away nothing. She was buying time. She was drawing Arthur’s attention away from the girls.

Arthur lowered the gun slightly, a cruel, calculating smile playing on his lips. "Fascinating. The heroic little caretaker. Fine. You and Marcus walk downstairs with me. My men will stay here with the children. If you attempt any clever tricks, a single radio transmission will end their lives."

"No!" Lily cried out, her voice breaking. "Daddy! Don't leave us!"

"I'm not leaving you, baby," I promised, looking into Lily’s eyes with every ounce of love in my soul. "Daddy will be right back. Stay brave. Remember what we do when we're scared."