“You Never Chose Me.”—The Mafia Boss Saved Another Woman During the Ambush While His Pregnant Wife Escaped Alone… Two Years Later, He Found Her Alive With His Son...

A flash-bang grenade arced through the broken window, bouncing twice on the wooden floor before detonating with a blinding light and a deafening, metallic boom.

Knox and his men shouted, covering their eyes as smoke filled the room.

Through the shattered window stepped Adrian Mercer.

He did not look like a man begging for forgiveness. He looked like the absolute god of death.

He wore a dark tactical vest over his sweater, a silenced machine pistol in his right hand. His eyes were wide, glowing with a primal, terrifying rage that turned the cold air into liquid fire.

Before the mercenaries could recover, Adrian fired three rounds.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

The two men behind Knox dropped instantly, their blood splashing across the wooden counter.

Knox, recovering his vision, lunged forward, grabbing Claire from behind and pinning her against his chest, pressing his gun barrel hard against her temple.

"STAY BACK!" Knox screamed, his hand trembling as he pulled Claire toward the back exit. "TAKE ONE STEP AND I'LL BLOW HER HEAD OFF!"

Adrian froze in the middle of the smoking room. His weapon remained raised, locked onto Knox's forehead, but his face went pale with terror.

"Let her go," Adrian whispered. The tone of his voice was so dark, so heavy with absolute destruction, that the air in the room felt twenty degrees colder. "Let her go, and I will let you walk out of this town alive."

"You're lying!" Knox spat, his arm tightening around Claire’s throat. "Hart wants the kid! Where's the kid?!"

Claire, despite the steel barrel pressed against her skull, did not panic. She looked at Adrian over Knox’s arm.

She saw the raw, absolute agony in Adrian’s eyes. He wasn't thinking about politics. He wasn't thinking about New York. He was looking at her with the same frantic, desperate love he had shown when he searched the ashes of Boston.

He was ready to die for her.

"Adrian," Claire said softly, her voice steady amidst the smoke and blood. "The stairs."

Adrian’s eyes flicked up for a microsecond toward the ceiling, where Caleb and two Mercer tactical operatives were already sliding down from the apartment roof.

Knox felt the slight shift in tension and began to squeeze the trigger—

Claire drove her elbow back with every ounce of strength in her body, slamming it directly into Knox's solar plexus.

Knox gasped, his grip loosening for half a second.

That half second was all Adrian needed.

Adrian closed the distance like a shadow. He grabbed Knox’s gun wrist, twisting it upward until the bone snapped with a sickening crunch. Knox shrieked in pain, dropping the weapon.

Adrian grabbed Knox by the throat, driving him violently backward across the room, slamming him through the glass display case and pinning him against the warm brick of the oven.

"You came into my wife's home," Adrian roared, his left hand choking the breath out of Knox while his right hand drew a tactical blade from his belt. "You threatened my family."

"Mercer... wait..." Knox choked out, blood leaking from his mouth.

"Tell Frank Hart," Adrian whispered directly into Knox’s ear, "that I am coming to New York."

Adrian drove the blade forward.

Outside, the storm howled, but inside the bakery, the violence ceased as quickly as it had begun.

Adrian dropped the mercenary’s body to the floor. He stood panting in the smoke, covered in rain, blood, and glass, his chest heaving violently.

He turned slowly to look at Claire.

She was standing near the counter, her hands resting against her ribs, her breathing shallow and fast.

Adrian immediately dropped his knife, taking two frantic steps toward her, his hands hovering in the air, afraid to touch her blood-stained clothes.

"Are you hurt?" Adrian cried out, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "Claire! Did he touch you? Are you bleeding?!"

Claire looked at the bodies on her floor, at the shattered window, at the blood on Adrian’s hands.

Then she looked into his eyes.

She saw no hesitation. She saw no selfish calculation. He had jumped through a glass window into a kill zone without a second thought, offering his own life to shield her from a bullet.

"I'm okay," Claire whispered.

From upstairs, the sound of Leo crying echoed down the stairwell, startled by the noise of the flash-bang.

Claire turned toward the stairs. Her knees buckled from the delayed surge of adrenaline.

Before she could hit the floor, Adrian caught her.

His strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly, holding her tight against his chest.

For three seconds, Claire didn't pull away. She leaned her head against his shoulder, smelling the rain, the salt, and the familiar, deep scent of the man she had loved for three years.

Adrian squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face in her hair, weeping quietly in the dark, ruined shop.

"I've got you," Adrian whispered, his voice cracking. "I've got you, Claire. I'll never let go again. Never."