"SHE WOKE FROM A THREE-YEAR COMA AND FOUND THE MAFIA KING RAISING HER DAUGHTER—THEN HIS ENEMIES CAME TO PROVE THE CHILD WAS NEVER SAFE IN HIS ARMS

At 3:45 AM, the storm reached its terrifying peak. Thunder rattled the reinforced glass windows of the estate, and lightning illuminated the dark ocean below in violent white flashes.

Elena sat in the central security bunker deep beneath the main house. The room was reinforced with six inches of solid titanium plating, equipped with independent air filtration systems and live camera monitors covering every foot of the estate.

Amelia sat on a small velvet sofa in the corner, playing quietly with a set of wooden building blocks under the watchful eye of a female private nurse.

Viktor stood near the main console, monitoring the perimeter motion sensors.

"How is the team at the docks?" Elena asked, wheeling herself over to the console.

"Boss made entry twenty minutes ago," Viktor reported, his eyes glued to the digital radar screen. "They cleared the first warehouse. It was an ambush, but Roman anticipated it. They’ve pinned down Moretti’s vanguard."

Suddenly, three red alarm lights began flashing wildly on the main console. A loud, high-pitched chime echoed through the bunker.

"Perimeter breach at Gate Three!" a security operator shouted. "Thermal sensors showing twenty-five armed hostiles advancing through the north woods!"

Viktor’s face turned into a hard mask of satisfaction. "The idiot fell for it. He thinks the estate is empty." He keyed his radio. "Teams Alpha and Bravo, hold your fire until they clear the outer courtyard. Let them step into the crossfire zone."

On the camera monitors, Elena watched in breathless horror as dark figures in tactical gear cut through the outer perimeter chain-link fence, surging onto the manicured green lawns of the estate.

Leading the strike team was a man wearing a red rain jacket—Dominic Vale.

"Now," Viktor commanded into his headset.

Instantly, massive floodlights mounted on the estate towers ignited, blinding the invaders in a wall of brilliant white light. Automated heavy turrets and hidden sniper posts opened fire simultaneously.

The courtyard erupted into violent chaos. Muzzle flashes strobed through the rain as Dominic’s men were caught in an inescapable crossfire.

"They’re falling back!" the operator yelled.

"No," Elena said, her eyes fixed on Monitor 4. "Look at the main house roof!"

Viktor’s gaze snapped to the monitor. A small, high-speed stealth helicopter had hovered directly over the roof of the main house under the cover of the thunderstorm. Four men rappelled down onto the balcony—the balcony that connected directly to the private residential quarters above their bunker.

"They blew the central stairwell!" the operator screamed as a loud explosion shook the deep foundation of the underground bunker, causing dust to rain down from the ceiling.

Amelia screamed, dropping her building blocks and scrambling into Elena’s lap, hiding her face against Elena’s chest.

"Security team, fall back to the bunker access hallway!" Viktor ordered into his radio, pulling his custom sidearm from its holster. "Protect the mother and child!"

The heavy steel door at the end of the bunker corridor groaned. A high-thermite explosive charge was being placed on the outer hinges.

Elena wrapped her arms around Amelia, her heart pounding like a war drum. She looked around the room for a weapon. Her eyes landed on a heavy silver fire extinguisher resting against the wall beside her wheelchair.

"Viktor," Elena said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the terror choking her. "Give me a gun."

Viktor looked at her, surprised. "Miss Marlowe—"

"I am not going to sit here like a helpless victim while that monster tries to kill my child again!" Elena demanded, her eyes flashing with lethal determination. "Give me a weapon!"

Viktor didn't argue. He pulled a compact 9mm pistol from his tactical vest, checked the chamber, and handed it to her.