She shoved a five-months-pregnant waitress into a mirror—then the mafia boss stepped forward and recognized the scar that once saved his life.

Two days passed in quiet luxury at the estate.

Elena spent her mornings walking through the glass greenhouses, breathing in the scent of fresh orchids, and her afternoons reading by the grand fireplace. For the first time in years, she felt well-rested, nourished, and truly safe.

Damian joined her every evening for dinner. Despite his demanding schedule managing his vast business network, he prioritized spending hours talking with her, listening to her stories about her life, her childhood memories, and her dreams for her son.

A quiet, deep affection was growing between them—a connection forged in blood fourteen years ago and rekindled in the middle of chaos.

On the third evening, as they finished dinner in the glass conservatory, Damian’s phone rang.

He answered, his brow furrowing instantly. "Speak."

Marcus's voice was urgent. "Boss, we intercepted an encrypted transmission from inside the estate perimeter ten minutes ago. Someone inside Vale Estate just leaked Miss Hart’s medical records and exact location to the Kane network."

Damian’s jaw set into stone. "Who?"

"It came from the servant quarters," Marcus reported. "We're locking down the gates now."

Damian stood up, his dark eyes flashing with lethal intent. He looked at Elena. "Stay in the conservatory with Marcus. Do not leave this room."

He walked briskly down the long marble corridor toward the staff quarters in the east wing.

Ten minutes later, Damian stood in the central security office. Standing before him, handcuffed to a steel chair, was a young security guard named Thomas—a man Damian had hired six months prior.

"Who paid you?" Damian asked, his voice deathly quiet.

Thomas trembled, sweat pouring down his face. "Mr. Vale... please! They have my sister! Victoria Kane's men kidnapped my sister two days ago! They told me if I didn't send Miss Hart's location, they would kill her!"

Damian stared at the guard. He didn't raise his voice or show anger. He understood leverage better than anyone.

"Where are they holding your sister?" Damian asked flatly.

"An abandoned textile factory in Queens," Thomas sobbed. "Arthur Kane is there himself. He's assembling a strike team of twenty mercenaries to assault this estate tonight!"

Damian turned to Marcus. "Get our strike team ready. We aren't waiting for them to come here."