I carried my sick baby into the mansion of New York’s most feared underworld figure, expecting to be fired for bringing her to work. Instead, Dominic Romano recognized the silver locket around her neck—and minutes later, men were forcing their way through his gates because my daughter was the person they had come to find.

The night of the board meeting arrived under a heavy, pouring rain that slicked the streets of Manhattan in shimmering black reflection.

At 7:45 PM, a convoy of three black armored SUVs pulled up to the glittering glass entrance of The Vance Building on Park Avenue.

Inside the primary SUV, Dominic sat in the back seat, flanked by Marcus and his lead corporate attorney. He wore a crisp dark suit, a silver pocket watch—a gift from Elena years ago—glinting against his vest.

His phone buzzed. It was a secure video call from his estate.

Dominic answered it immediately. My face appeared on the screen. I was sitting in the warm nursery at the mansion, holding sleeping Ava in my arms.

"We're stepping into the building now, Claire," Dominic said softly, his voice dropping into that gentle, tender tone he reserved only for us.

"Dominic, please be careful," I said, my heart pounding against my ribs as I looked at his handsome, severe face through the screen. "Marcus told me Vance hired extra security for the lobby."

"They won't be a problem," Dominic assured me, a soft smile touching his lips. "How is my girl?"

"She’s sleeping like an angel," I smiled, looking down at Ava. "She misses her protector."

Dominic’s eyes softened with a look of such profound, deep devotion that it took my breath away. "Tell her I'll be home for breakfast. Keep the vault locked until I call you personally."

"I love you, Dominic," the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them—pure, honest, and terrifyingly real.

Dominic froze on the screen, his dark eyes widening slightly before a look of pure, breathtaking warmth filled his face. "I love you too, Claire. More than my own life."

He ended the call, adjusted his cuffs, and stepped out of the SUV into the pouring rain.

Inside the grand marble lobby of The Vance Building, twenty armed security guards stepped forward to block the elevator bank as Dominic and his team strode inside.

"Mr. Romano," the chief lobby guard said, stepping into Dominic's path. "You are not on the guest list for tonight's executive session."

Dominic didn't even slow his pace. Marcus stepped forward, slapping a federal emergency injunction and a certified corporate takeover order directly against the chief guard's chest.

"As of six minutes ago," Marcus announced loudly, his voice echoing through the marble lobby, "Dominic Romano owns fifty-one percent of Vance Financial Holding shares, acquired through the liquidation of frozen Cayman assets authorized by the United States District Court. Stand aside or be arrested for federal obstruction."

The guards looked at the court order, then at Dominic’s icy, unyielding gaze, and slowly lowered their weapons.