Every afternoon at exactly 2:45, I left the private offices of Chicago’s most feared Mafia leader without explanation. For seven months, Victor Moretti allowed me to disappear every day—until the afternoon he followed me and discovered the secret I had protected from him: six children living in the shadows of his empire.

By 4:00 AM, the estate grounds were silent once more.

The Falcone strike force had been completely annihilated or captured by Victor’s men. The injured were being treated by private medical staff in the east wing, and Thomas Vance was currently bound to a heavy wooden chair in the sub-basement interrogation room, surrounded by Dante and four armed guards.

In the grand living room, a warm fire crackled in the stone hearth.

The six children, exhausted from the night's terror, were fast asleep on the massive velvet sectional sofas, wrapped in soft cashmere blankets. Mia was curled up against Daniel's side, while Noah slept peacefully in a small portable crib Victor had ordered brought down from the nursery.

I sat near the hearth, holding a warm mug of tea, a clean white bandage applied to the shallow cut on my temple.

Victor stepped into the room, having showered and changed into a clean black silk shirt and dark trousers. He walked over to the sofa, picked up a throw blanket, and gently draped it over Daniel’s shoulders before walking over to stand beside my chair.

"The children are resilient," Victor murmured softly, looking down at Noah’s sleeping face. "They slept through the entire cleanup."

"They’ve had to be resilient for a long time, Victor," I said, looking up at him. "When you live in the shadows, you learn to adapt to the dark very quickly."

Victor sat down on the leather ottoman opposite my chair, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees. The dark signet ring on his finger caught the warm orange glow of the fire.

"Thomas confessed," Victor said, his voice dropping into a low, somber tone.

I set my tea mug down. "What did he say?"

"He wasn't just leaking my location tonight," Victor explained, his eyes darkening with an old, reopened wound. "Eighteen months ago, he was the one who gave the Falcone syndicate the location of Elena’s safe house in Michigan. He was paid five million dollars to ensure she never returned to Chicago."

My breath hitched in my chest. A cold, nauseating horror washed over me.

"So Elena’s death..." I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "It was Thomas all along."

"Yes," Victor said, his hand reaching out to wrap around mine, his strong fingers squeezing with comforting warmth. "For eighteen months, I believed I lost her because of my own carelessness. I believed she ran away from me because she couldn't handle my world. But she was trying to save our son from a traitor inside my own house."

He looked at me, his storm-gray eyes filled with an intensity so profound it made my heart stop.

"And then you walked into my life seven months ago," Victor continued softly. "A quiet, brilliant girl who took a job as my secretary just so she could monitor my syndicate from the inside and ensure I was never a threat to these children."

I lowered my head, feeling a flush of heat rise to my cheeks. "I didn't know who to trust, Victor. I thought you were a monster."

Victor reached out, his long fingers gently cupping my chin, lifting my head until our eyes met.

"Am I a monster to you now, Olivia?" he asked softly.

I looked at his scarred cheek, at his fierce, protective eyes, and at the gentle way his hand rested over mine. I thought about how he had thrown his body over me and Noah during the explosion, how he had promised to protect all six children, and how he had looked at his son for the first time.

"No," I whispered, my heart fluttering wildly against my ribs. "You're the man who kept us safe tonight."

Victor leaned in slowly. His lips gently brushed against mine—a soft, reverent, lingering kiss that tasted of fire, cedarwood, and unexpressed promise.

When he pulled back slightly, his eyes were burning with an undeniable flame.

"This war with Falcone isn't over yet, Olivia," Victor murmured against my lips. "Tomorrow, Don Falcone will realize his strike force failed. He will bring everything he has left to destroy this family."