The gun stopped so close to Harper Lane's face that she could smell the oil and cold metal on it.

The world went white. A high-pitched ringing roared in Harper’s ears as the blinding flash burned her vision.

She fell onto her side, gasping for air, her hands instinctively clawing toward the living room. "Emma!" she screamed, though her own voice sounded muffled and miles away.

Through the thick gray smoke filling the apartment, shadow figures dressed in black tactical gear burst through the shattered window frame and the kicked-in front door.

A heavy boot slammed into Harper’s ribs, rolling her over onto her back. A black gloved hand grabbed her hair, dragging her upright.

"Got the girl!" a harsh, rough voice yelled over the ringing in her ears.

Dominic was already moving. Even half-blinded by the flashbang, he was a lethal force of nature. He grabbed the nearest attacker by the throat, slamming him into the doorframe with bone-crushing force, stripping the man’s assault rifle in one fluid motion, and dropping two more men advancing from the hallway.

"Harper! Get Emma!" Dominic roared, his voice cutting through the ringing in her ears.

Harper forced herself up despite the searing pain in her ribs. She threw herself toward the sofa, wrapping her arms around a terrified, screaming Emma just as an attacker reached for the child.

Harper grabbed a heavy ceramic lamp from the end table and smashed it with all her strength against the attacker’s face. The man yelled, stumbling backward, blood pouring from his broken nose.

Dominic fired three quick shots, clearing the doorway, and grabbed Harper by the arm, hauling her toward the kitchen rear exit.

"They had the building surrounded!" Dominic gritted out, blood trickling down the side of his own face where glass had cut his cheek. "Marco's down!"

They burst out into the narrow rear stairwell, descending at a breakneck pace as heavy footsteps echoed above and below them.

"Where do we go?!" Harper gasped, holding Emma tight against her pounding heart.

"To the roof!" Dominic ordered. "We can't get to the alley!"

They kicked open the heavy iron door leading to the roof, bursting out into the cold, pouring rain. The city skyline stretched out around them in a blur of neon and darkness.

But as they stepped onto the wet tar of the rooftop, three figures stepped out from behind the massive air conditioning units, blocking their path.

In the center stood Julianna, wrapped in a dark leather trench coat, holding a sleek silver handgun pointed directly at Dominic’s chest. Beside her stood an older, gray-haired man with cold, cruel eyes and an aristocratic posture—Don Moretti himself.

"How pathetic, Dominic," Julianna purred, her voice carried by the wind and rain. "Running through the rain like a stray dog, clinging to a common waitress."

Dominic stepped in front of Harper and Emma, shielding them completely with his massive frame, his gun pointed straight at Moretti’s head.

"Julianna," Dominic said, his voice dropping into a register of pure, lethal promise. "You sold out your own sister."

"Sophia was a fool!" Julianna shrieked, her composed facade snapping, revealing the ugly, jealous rage underneath. "She had everything! She had you, she had the family name, she had the fortune! And she was going to destroy it all with that ledger! My father and I did what was necessary to preserve our empire!"

"And Emma?" Dominic asked, his dark eyes glinting like black ice. "Did you intend to murder my five-year-old daughter too?"

"Emma is a loose end," Don Moretti spoke, his raspy, cold voice cutting through the wind. "She was in the room when Sophia died. She heard the names. That's why she stopped talking, isn't it, Dominic? Because she knows my voice."

Harper felt Emma shudder violently behind Dominic’s back. The little girl’s fingers dug into Harper’s coat, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Give us the locket, Dominic," Julianna commanded, raising her gun. "Hand over the ledger, and I'll make sure your death is fast. The waitress and the child can join Sophia in the ground."

Dominic didn't flinch. Slowly, a dark, terrifying smile spread across his blood-stained face.

"You think I came up to this roof without a contingency, Julianna?" Dominic said softly.

He raised his left hand, revealing a small black transmitter button clutched in his palm.

"I didn't just extract the micro-drive," Dominic growled. "The moment the locket was unlocked, a satellite link transmitted the entire ledger directly to the Federal District Attorney's secure server. Every wiretap, every offshore account, every murder order—it’s being printed on the DA's desk right now."