The interior of the car was dead silent except for the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers.

Dominic sat beside me in the back seat, staring blankly out the window, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles pulsed.

"The Russian lied," I said finally, breaking the heavy silence. "He was trying to throw blame onto my family name to save his own neck."

"Was he?" Dominic asked quietly, turning his dark eyes toward me. "Some of your father’s old capos never accepted the truce in ninety-eight, Claire. They've been quiet for years, but with the right funding... they could easily resurface."

"I told you, I have nothing to do with them," I said, my voice trembling with a sudden surge of hurt and frustration. "My father cut ties with the syndicate twenty years ago! That’s why we lived in poverty in Indiana! Why won't you believe me?"

Dominic reached out, his warm, calloused fingers wrapping firmly around my wrist. The touch sent a jolt of electricity straight up my arm.

"I believe you," Dominic said softly.

I blinked, stunned. "You do?"

"If you wanted me dead, you had a dozen opportunities in this car alone," Dominic murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against my pulse point. "And more importantly... Audrey trusts you. My daughter’s instincts have never been wrong."

Before I could process the warmth flooding my chest, the Maybach suddenly screeched to a halt, the tires sliding against the wet asphalt.

Our driver slammed on the brakes as three black SUVs blocked the mansion gates ahead.

"Boss!" the driver shouted over the radio. "We've got perimeter breach! Multiple armed units approaching the gates!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gunfire erupted from the darkness, riddling the front of our car with bullet holes.

"Get down!" Dominic roared, throwing his massive body over mine, shielding me with his own flesh as glass shattered inward across the leather seats.

"They're attacking the house!" I yelled over the deafening roar of automatic gunfire. "Audrey is inside!"

Terror—raw, blinding, and absolute—flashed across Dominic’s face. He didn't care about the assassins outside. He cared about his daughter.

Dominic kicked open the rear door, pulled me out into the pouring rain, and shoved his backup Glock into my hand.

"Run through the garden gate!" Dominic commanded, his voice thunderous. "Get to the panic room in the basement! I'll draw them away!"

"I'm not leaving you!" I shouted back, firing two rapid shots toward a masked gunman scaling the courtyard wall.

Dominic grabbed my face with both hands, forcing me to look straight into his eyes.

"Protect my daughter, Claire Mercer!" he roared above the gunfire. "That is an order!"

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and charged headfirst into the line of fire, a one-man army fueled by vengeance and love.