She Was Only a Dog Trainer Trying to Heal a Traumatized Shepherd — Then the Mafia Boss Who Owned Him Made Her the Key to Surviving a Deadly Betrayal

Roman reacted instantly.

Before the radio static had even cleared, his hand was under his jacket, drawing a custom matte-black SIG Sauer P226. He didn't look startled; he looked like a machine returning to its natural state.

"Thorne, get the drive to the secondary server room," Roman ordered, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. "Viktor, lock down sectors three through seven. Activate the lethal perimeter."

"Wait!" I yelled, lifting Luna into my arms despite her ninety-pound weight. She was still groggy from the local block, her hind legs unsteady on the tile. "What comm card?"

Roman’s eyes locked onto my jacket pocket. "The satellite card I gave you in the car."

I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out the small black rectangle Roman had slipped there hours ago. A tiny, blue LED light on the corner was pulsing rapidly—a signal lock.

"Volkov didn't follow the car," I realized, terror cold and sharp in my gut. "He had a military-grade sniffer monitoring the regional cellular grid. The moment this card pinged your secure server to verify my mother’s hospital account, it broadcasted our coordinates!"

"He didn't just track it," Roman said, stepping between me and the door as heavy automatic gunfire began to rattle through the upper floors of the estate. "He used it to bypass my digital firewall. He’s already inside the house."

The ceiling shook as a heavy concussion grenade detonated directly above the clinic floor. Dust and plaster rained down on the stainless steel tables.

"Odessa, take Luna into the ventilation escape route behind the wine rack," Roman commanded, grabbing my shoulder with a grip like iron. His eyes were burning with an intensity that made the floor feel unstable beneath my feet. "It leads down to the boat dock on the Hudson. There's a dark-hulled launch tied to the lower pilings. The key is under the throttle box."

"What about you?" I demanded, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket. "You can't take twenty men alone!"

"This is my house," Roman said, his voice dropping into a register that was almost gentle, despite the chaos raging around us. "And no one dies in my house while I am still breathing. Take the dog. Live."

"No," I said.

Roman paused, his thumb hovering over his sidearm’s safety. "What?"

"Luna won't leave without you," I said, pointing down at the Shepherd.

Despite her weakness, Luna had hauled herself to her feet and was wedging her snout firmly into Roman’s left palm, refusing to budge an inch toward the escape hatch.

"She’s hard-wired to your heart rate, Roman!" I shouted over another terrifying blast above us. "If I drag her into that boat while you stay here to die, her nervous system will collapse! She’ll throw herself into the river! You brought me here to save her—now you come with us, or we all stay right here and finish this together!"

Roman stared at me, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched near his temple. For the first time in what looked like decades, the ruthless syndicate boss was forced to surrender control to someone else.

"Two minutes," Roman snarled, grabbing a tactical bag from the wall and slinging it over his shoulder. "If we aren't at the boat in two minutes, Volkov’s gunboats will cut off the river route."