The mafia boss’s three-year-old son stopped screaming the instant I gave him warm milk—so his father fired me, then offered me his ring.

"Get inside! Now!" Ricardo roared, his momentary softness instantly vanishing into a hurricane of lethal authority.

He snatched Matteo into his left arm while grabbing my wrist with his right, lifting me to my feet and shoving us both through the grand oak doors of the mansion as the heavy iron gates at the end of the driveway shattered under the impact of a speeding heavy SUV.

The screech of tearing metal and the deafening roar of automatic gunfire shattered the night.

THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!

High-caliber bullets slammed into the stone facade of the mansion, shattering the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the grand parlor into a million sparkling shards.

"Down!" Ricardo shouted, throwing his body over both me and Matteo on the marble floor of the foyer as glass showered down over us like deadly snow.

Around us, the estate came alive with violence.

The quiet, sterile mansion transformed instantly into a warzone. Twelve of Ricardo’s elite bodyguards, who had been dressed in sharp suits moments ago, pulled heavy assault rifles from hidden wall panels in the foyer, laying down a terrifying barrage of counter-fire through the shattered front windows.

POP-POP-POP-POP-POP!

The thunderous noise was deafening. The smell of burnt gunpowder, ozone, and hot lead instantly filled the pristine marble hall.

Matteo buried his face into my chest, screaming in pure terror, his small hands covering his ears. I wrapped my arms completely around him, using my own body as a shield, pressing my spine against the base of the grand staircase.

"Viktor!" Ricardo yelled over the deafening gunfire to his head of security. "How many?!"

"At least fifteen men, Don Ricardo!" Viktor shouted back, firing three precise shots through a broken window frame. "They came through the south perimeter fence! It's Vance's men!"

"They came for her," Ricardo snarled, his eyes flashing with an unholy rage.

He turned to me, his hands grabbing my shoulders, pulling me up into a sitting position against the stairs. "Maya, listen to me! Take Matteo into my office in the west wing. There is a panic room behind the main bookshelf. The code is 1024. Get inside, lock the steel door, and do not open it for anyone except me!"

"What about you?!" I screamed back over the roar of automatic rifle fire.

"I am going to kill every single man who set foot on my grass," Ricardo said flatly.

He pulled a small, sleek snub-nosed revolver from his ankle holster and slapped it into my shaking palm. "If anyone opens that panic room door who isn't me, pull the trigger until it clicks empty. Understand?"

I looked at the heavy steel gun in my hand, then at the terrified child in my arms, and then up into the amber eyes of the man who was willing to turn his home into a slaughterhouse to keep us safe.

"Understand," I choked out.

"Go!" Ricardo barked.

He stood up, pulling a heavy tactical rifle from a fallen guard, stepping directly out into the hallway of gunfire, his weapon roaring as he began advancing toward the front entrance like a demon unleashed.

I didn't look back. I grabbed Matteo, tucked him tightly against my hip, and ran as fast as my legs could carry me down the carpeted corridor toward the restricted west wing.

The heavy double oak doors of the west wing were locked, but as I approached, the digital keypad flashed green—unlocked remotely by Ricardo from his master console in the foyer.

I slammed the doors open, throwing myself into the dim, mahogany-lined private hallway.

Behind me, the sound of gunfire, shouting, and breaking glass continued to echo through the mansion, but inside the west wing, the air was eerily quiet.

I sprinted down the hall, reaching Ricardo’s massive corner office. I ran to the grand wall of bookshelves, my eyes frantically searching for the seam. I pressed my hands against the heavy oak wood, pushing until a section of the shelf swung inward with a heavy hydraulic hiss, revealing a small, reinforced steel door with a glowing digital key pad.

I punched in the code—1-0-2-4.

The heavy steel door unlocked with a deep THUD, swinging open to reveal a safe, well-lit room equipped with security monitors, emergency medical supplies, and leather seating.

I practically threw myself inside, pulling Matteo in after me.

Before I could press the button to seal the heavy steel door from the inside, a dark shadow stepped into the doorway of the office.

A man carrying a silenced pistol walked slowly into the room, his dark leather coat dripping with rain, a bloody smear stretching across his cheek.

He raised his wrist to wipe the blood away.

Inked onto the pale flesh above his watch was a black viper coiled around an hourglass.