Something was terribly wrong the moment my twin daughters started screaming at three in the morning, and I stormed toward the nursery ready to fire the new nanny on the spot. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that waited behind that door, because the woman I was certain had failed my family was doing the one thing I hadn't been able to do since my wife died.

The rain poured down in blinding sheets as I sprinted through the darkened corridors of the mansion toward the security control room, my footsteps echoing against the marble floors.

On the monitors, the digital feeds showed a black sedan idling just past the security gate, its headlights cut. A single figure in a dark trench coat had vaulted over the perimeter fence and was moving rapidly toward the east wing—directly toward the nursery where the twins were sleeping.

My stomach twisted into a knot of pure, unadulterated terror.

If this was Victoria’s dirty work—if she had hired private thugs to intimidate me or attempt a snatch-and-grab—someone was going to die tonight.

I bypassed the security room, heading straight for the side exit that led directly to the garden path. The cold rain hit my face like buckshot, instantly soaking through my shirt as I plunged into the darkness of the courtyard.

The intruder was fast, moving with military precision through the rosebushes, hugging the shadow of the stone wall.

“Freeze! Hands where I can see them!” I roared, stepping out from beneath the stone archway, leveling the Beretta straight at the center of his chest.

The figure stopped dead in their tracks.

Slowly, the intruder raised their hands, turning around to face the beam of my tactical flashlight.

The bright LED illuminated a wet, pale face with sharp, desperate features. It wasn't a professional hitman. It wasn't one of Victoria’s lawyers.

It was a young man in his late twenties, shivering violently in a soaked leather jacket, his eyes wide with sheer panic.

“Dante Caruso?” the man gasped, panting heavily from the run. “Thank God... I didn't know how else to reach you. I had to get inside before they found me.”

I didn't lower the gun by a single millimeter. “Who the hell are you, and why are you trespassing on private property at two in the morning?”

“My name is Julian Vance,” the man blurted out, holding his hands higher.

The name hit me like a physical blow.

Vance. Victoria’s golden-boy younger brother—the black sheep of the family who had supposedly been disowned years ago after embezzling from the family shipping fund and disappearing into the underworld of Chicago finance.

“Victoria’s brother,” I growled, keeping the barrel steady. “You picked the wrong house to hide in, Julian. Your sister is already trying to tear my family apart through the courts; I’m in no mood for family reunions.”

“This isn't about Victoria!” Julian shouted over the roar of the rain, stepping forward into the light. “She’s using you, Dante! She’s using the custody battle as a smoke screen!”

I narrowed my eyes. “Explain yourself. Quickly.”

Julian wiped rain from his eyes, shivering so hard his teeth clicked together. “Victoria isn't trying to get custody of Maisie and Rosie because she cares about them. She found out last week that Elena left a codicil in her private offshore trust—a multi-million-dollar asset portfolio independent of your shipping conglomerate that goes directly to the girls on their eighteenth birthday, managed by an independent trustee.”

My breath hitched. I had never known about any independent trust. Elena had always kept her personal finances guarded.

“Victoria wants absolute control of that trust to bail out her failing real estate holdings,” Julian continued frantically, gesturing wildly toward the front gate. “She hired Marcus Sterling to bully you into a settlement, and if that fails, she’s planning to plant fabricated evidence of negligence in your house to destroy your credibility permanently!”

Before I could process the staggering revelation, a second set of headlights swept across the private drive outside the gate.

A sleek black SUV pulled up directly behind Julian’s abandoned car, doors flying open. Two men in heavy black tactical gear stepped out into the rain, scanning the property with powerful flashlights.