EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT AND BLEEDING FROM A GUNSHOT, GIANA WATCHED HER HUSBAND CHOOSE ANOTHER WOMAN—THEN SHE MADE A DECISION THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

Four hours later, the storm had turned into a full blizzard, paralyzing the city of Chicago.

Inside the study of the Bellini mansion, the air was thick with the scent of bourbon and burning mahogany. Luca Bellini stood before the grand marble fireplace, staring blankly at the flames.

The ballroom had been cleared. The two hundred wealthy guests had been ushered out under strict non-disclosure threats enforced by his security team. Vanessa sat in the corner armchair, wrapping a cashmere cardigan tightly around herself, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and calculation.

The double doors banged open. Daniel, Luca's lead security director, walked in, his suit soaked with melted snow. His face was pale.

"Well?" Luca’s voice was dangerously low, vibrating with a suppressed fury that made the glassware on the side table ring.

"We tracked the tire tread to the south perimeter," Daniel reported, keeping his distance. "She got into a vehicle. We recovered blood samples from the snow near the maintenance gate."

Luca turned sharply, his dark eyes hollowed by shock. "Where is she? Which hospital?"

"None of them, boss," Daniel said quietly. "We checked every emergency room, private clinic, and urgent care center from Milwaukee to Indianapolis. No sign of her. No admissions matching her description."

"That's impossible!" Luca shouted, slamming his fist into the mantlepiece. "She was shot, Daniel! She was bleeding! She's carrying my heir!"

"Luca..." Vanessa spoke up from the chair, her voice soft and pitiful. "You have to accept it. She was severely injured, out in the freezing cold... in her condition... perhaps she—"

Luca turned on her so fast that Vanessa recoiled into the cushions.

"Shut your mouth, Vanessa," Luca growled, his voice thick with a lethal threat. "Do not utter another word tonight."

Vanessa bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes, but she wisely closed her mouth.

Daniel took a step forward, dropping a thick leather folder onto Luca's desk. "We checked the security footage from the gate camera before it was cut. The vehicle that picked her up belonged to a rental agency linked to Julian Vane."

Luca’s jaw tightened. "Vane? She went to Vane?"

"It gets worse, boss," Daniel continued, his tone solemn. "Ten minutes ago, a financial alert triggered at Northern Trust. Giana’s personal accounts—the ones holding her inheritance from her father—were completely drained. Transferred through a series of offshore shells in the Cayman Islands and frozen."

Luca stared at the folder. "She stripped her accounts?"

"She left her wedding ring on the dresser in your bedroom," Daniel added softly. "Along with her keycards, her passport, and the deed to the lake house."

Luca felt the floor beneath him give way. He walked slowly over to his desk, picking up the small velvet box Daniel had placed beside the folder. Inside was the platinum wedding band he had placed on Giana's finger three years ago.

She hadn't just fled. She had systematically severed every tie that bound her to his world.

"Expand the search radius to the entire Eastern Seaboard," Luca ordered, his voice breaking despite his best efforts. "Put a fifty-million-dollar bounty on Vane's head. I don't care if it takes every resource this family possesses. Bring my wife back."

"And if she doesn't want to be found, boss?" Daniel asked quietly.