Two tequila shots into my twenty-sixth birthday, I poked Boston’s most feared crime boss in the chest twice and watched an entire nightclub go silent. Less than a minute later, a bullet hit the pillar where my head had been, Matteo Conti threw me over his shoulder, and my miserable birthday shift became a fight to stay alive.

By 4:30 AM, the siege on the Conti estate was over.

Seven Falcone operatives lay dead in the courtyard; the remaining survivors had fled as Matteo’s secondary tactical unit arrived from South Boston to lock down the neighborhood.

The ground floor of the mansion was wrecked, but the primary target—me—was completely unharmed.

"The probate court opens at 8:00 AM at the Suffolk County Courthouse," Luca reported in the underground garage, wrapping a thick bandage around his bleeding forearm. "Falcone has set up roadblocks along the expressway. He knows we have to move her by road."

Matteo stood by the open door of an armored, matte-black Mercedes Maybach, inspecting the thick bulletproof glass.

"We aren't taking the expressway," Matteo said smoothly. "We take the industrial rail tunnels under the docks."

Luca blinked. "Boss, those tunnels haven't been used since the sixties. They're flooded in some sections."

"Which is why Falcone won't be watching them," Matteo countered, turning to me. "Get in."

I climbed into the back of the Maybach, my hand still trembling slightly from the weight of the gun I had fired an hour ago. Matteo slid in beside me, closing the heavy, vault-like door.

The vehicle sped out of the subterranean exit, diving immediately down a concrete ramp that led deep beneath the city into the old, abandoned subway and freight tunnels.

The darkness inside the tunnel was absolute, illuminated only by the Maybach’s bright halogen headlights bouncing off damp, vaulted brick walls.

I sat quietly in the dark leather seat, listening to the heavy hum of the engine.

"Are you alright?" Matteo asked softly from the darkness beside me.

I looked at him. The shadows hid most of his face, but I could feel the intense, steady warmth of his body inches away from mine.

"Three hours ago, I was crying over a broken shoe and complaining about my shift," I said quietly. "Now I’ve shot a man, my house is gone, and I’m riding through a dark tunnel to claim a multi-million-dollar empire."

Matteo reached across the seat, his large, warm hand covering mine, his fingers weaving gently through my cold ones.

"You were never meant for a small life, Sophie," Matteo said, his voice surprisingly soft, holding a genuine tenderness I hadn't expected from a crime lord. "Some people are born in the quiet. Some are born in the storm. You just happened to wake up in yours tonight."

I looked down at our entwined hands, feeling an overwhelming, undeniable sense of safety despite the chaos waiting for us above ground.

"What happens after I sign the papers today, Matteo?" I asked softly. "Do I go back to Allston?"