Adrian stopped. He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto the gold watch in my hand.

Eleanor’s perfect composure finally cracked. Her face drained of color.

“Where did you get that?” Adrian asked. His voice wasn’t angry anymore. It was entirely hollow, which was infinitely more terrifying.

Eleanor took a step back. “Adrian, listen to me—”

“Where did you get my wife’s watch, Eleanor?”

The silence in the warehouse was absolute. Owen tucked himself behind my legs, sensing the shift in the air.

“Brielle didn't forge the medical papers, did she?” I said quietly, looking at Eleanor. The pieces were finally clicking together. “Brielle is a grifter. She stole money. She sold shipping routes. But she didn’t care enough about Owen to orchestrate a psychiatric hold.”

I held up the gold watch.

“You stole the watch from Lucy’s desk to make it look like Thomas robbed the house. You forged the papers, Aunt Eleanor. You hired the Chicago syndicate. You framed Brielle for the kidnapping so Adrian would execute her for treason.”

Adrian stared at his aunt. The woman who had helped raise him after his parents died.

“Why?” Adrian whispered.

Eleanor stood taller, her eyes flashing with a righteous, terrifying conviction.

“Because she was replacing Sarah!” Eleanor screamed, the echo bouncing off the corrugated walls. “She was moving into Sarah’s room! She was trying to send Sarah’s children away! I couldn't let that cheap, manipulative thief erase the only family we have left!”

“So you traumatized my children to prove a point?!” Adrian roared, closing the distance between them in two massive strides.

He grabbed Eleanor by the lapels of her coat, lifting her slightly off the ground.

“You put my son in a car with armed men. You put my daughter in danger. You threatened Rachel’s child.” Adrian’s voice shook with unadulterated rage. “You didn't do this for Sarah. You did this because you couldn't control me anymore.”

He let her go, shoving her backward. Eleanor stumbled, catching herself against a shipping crate.

“Take her,” Adrian ordered his men. “Lock her in the basement of the estate. We deal with family internally.”

Two enforcers grabbed Eleanor by the arms and dragged her toward the exit. She didn't fight them. She just stared at Adrian with cold, hollow eyes.

Adrian stood in the center of the dark warehouse, his shoulders slumped. For a brief second, the untouchable mafia boss looked like a broken, grieving widower.

He walked over to me. He gently took Sarah’s gold watch from my hand.

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” Adrian said softly. “I brought you and your daughter into a war you didn't ask for.”

“I didn't ask for it,” I agreed, signing the words simultaneously so Owen could understand. “But I don't abandon children who need help.”

Adrian looked at my hands moving in the dim light. A small, genuine smile touched the corner of his mouth.

“Get Owen to the car. We’re going back to the house to finish this.”

When the armored SUV pulled up to the Philadelphia mansion, the rain had finally stopped.

The estate was completely locked down. Marcus’s men were stationed at every door.

I walked into the grand foyer holding Owen’s hand. Lucy was waiting at the top of the stairs. When she saw her brother, she burst into tears, flying down the steps and tackling him into a massive hug.

Adrian watched them, his hand resting on his weapon.

“Where is Brielle?” Adrian asked Marcus.

“In the master bedroom, Boss,” Marcus replied. “She’s packed three suitcases. She’s demanding a car.”

“Let her demand,” Adrian said.

He walked slowly up the grand staircase. I followed behind, keeping the children close to me in the hallway.

Adrian didn't knock. He pushed the heavy mahogany doors of the master bedroom open.

Brielle spun around. She was wearing a sleek travel trench coat, holding a Birkin bag filled with cash from the safe.

When she saw Adrian, her face went completely white.

“Adrian, thank God,” she lied smoothly, trying to step forward. “I was terrified. Your men wouldn't let me leave. Did you find Owen?”

Adrian didn't answer. He walked into the room, grabbed one of her heavy suitcases, and threw it violently out the open balcony door.

It crashed onto the stone patio below, bursting open, spilling silk clothes and stolen cash into the wet grass.

“Adrian!” Brielle shrieked.

“The ledger, Brielle,” Adrian said, his voice deadly calm. “Eleanor gave me the ledger. I know about the shipping routes. I know about the money you funneled to Thomas.”

Brielle froze. The mask dropped entirely.

“You’re leaving this house tonight,” Adrian said, pulling his gun and aiming it directly at her chest. “The only question is whether you leave in a taxi, or a body bag.”

TITLE: THE TICKETS AND THE FINAL THREAT