Pick Any Woman You Want, The Mafia Boss Said — But His Dog Led The Girl To A Poor Waitress Instead

Kendrick stepped out of the nursery, shutting the door firmly behind him. Marcus immediately drew his custom SIG Sauer, his body shifting into a defensive stance.

"You have three seconds to explain why you brought weapons into my home, Barrett," Kendrick said, his tone ominously calm.

Barrett didn't back down. He slapped the white envelope against his palm, his face twisted in a triumphant grin. "I ran her prints through my contacts in the state database. Your precious little waitress isn't an innocent orphan, Kendrick! Her real father was Thomas Vance!"

The name hung in the corridor like a toxic gas.

Marcus gasped softly, his eyes widening. Thomas Vance had been the chief accountant for the Voronin syndicate—the Russian mob that had ordered the strike on Kendrick's wife five years ago. Thomas Vance had been executed by Kendrick's own hand during the war that followed.

"She's Thomas Vance's daughter," Barrett sneered, pointing a finger at the closed nursery door. "She came here for revenge! She used your daughter and your dog to get inside this house! She’s here to finish what the Russians started five years ago!"

Inside the nursery, the laughter had stopped.

The door opened slowly. Willa stood on the threshold, her face pale, holding Penny tightly against her hip. Titan stood beside her, his dark lips curled back to reveal gleaming white teeth, a terrifying growl echoing from his throat.

Willa looked at Kendrick, her dark eyes filled with a painful, raw honesty. She didn't deny the name.

"My father was Thomas Vance," Willa said, her voice shaking slightly, though she kept her head high. "He was a weak man who owed money to dangerous people. He worked for the Russians because they threatened to kill me if he didn't."

She looked directly at Barrett.

"I didn't know who Kendrick Ashford was until last night," she continued. "I don't care about the syndicates, I don't care about your money, and I didn't come here for revenge. My father died because of his own choices. I just wanted to live a quiet life."

"Lies!" Barrett shouted, reaching into his coat. "She's an assassin!"

Before Barrett's hand could clear his jacket, Kendrick moved with terrifying speed.

He didn't draw a gun. He closed the distance in a single stride, grabbed Barrett's wrist, and twisted it violently outward. The sound of a snapping bone echoed through the corridor, followed by Barrett's blood-curdling scream as a small nickel-plated pistol dropped from his nerveless fingers onto the carpet.

Kendrick snatched the gun out of the air, racked the slide, and pressed the barrel directly into the center of Barrett's forehead.

The four Hayes bodyguards raised their weapons, but within a heartbeat, ten of Kendrick's elite snipers appeared on the upper balcony above, their red laser sights locking onto the foreheads of Barrett's men.

"Lower your weapons," Marcus commanded quietly.

The four guards slowly dropped their guns to the floor.

Barrett was on his knees, clutching his broken wrist, sweat pouring down his face as he stared up into the deadly grey eyes of the boss. "Kendrick... please... I was just trying to protect the syndicate... she's the daughter of an enemy!"

Kendrick didn't pull the trigger. He leaned down, his face inches from Barrett's trembling ear.

"Thomas Vance was a coward," Kendrick whispered softly. "But his daughter saved my child's life while my own lieutenants were cowering in the basement five years ago."

Barrett's eyes widened in horror. "What... what are you talking about?"

"She was the nurse, Barrett," Kendrick revealed, his voice carrying an icy authority that shattered Barrett's remaining confidence. "The one who took a bullet for Penny. I didn't know her name then, but I know it now."

He pulled the gun back and struck Barrett across the face with the heavy steel handle. Barrett crumpled to the floor, bleeding from his nose and mouth.

"Get him out of my sight," Kendrick ordered his men. "Strip the Hayes family of their territories in Queens and Brooklyn by midnight. If Barrett Hayes sets foot in Westchester again, kill him on sight."

The guards dragged Barrett away like a sack of trash, his bloody cries fading down the grand staircase.

Silence returned to the corridor.

Kendrick turned around. He looked at Willa, who was still holding Penny. The child had buried her face in Willa's neck, completely trusting the arms that held her.

Kendrick walked over, stopping inches away from Willa. He raised a hand, his long, calloused fingers gently touching the scar visible near her collarbone. His touch was remarkably gentle for a man whose hands carried so much death.

"You knew who I was," Kendrick said softly. "You knew I killed your father."

"I knew," Willa whispered, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "He was a bad man, Mr. Ashford. He let the Russians into the hospital nursery that night. I tried to stop them... but I was just a kid."

"You weren't just a kid," Kendrick said, his thumb brushing away her tear. "You were the only brave person in that entire city."