Titan cleared the splintered threshold in a single, terrifying bound.

Before the two armed intruders standing in the hallway could raise their submachine guns, the gray-black mass of muscle slammed directly into the lead gunman, sending him crashing backward against the stone wall with a sickening crunch of breaking ribs. The man’s weapon flew from his hands, clattering uselessly across the marble floor.

The second intruder panicked, swinging his rifle barrel downward to fire at the dog.

Bang!

A bullet clipped the floor tiles inches from Titan’s paws, kicking up white chips of marble.

Before the gunman could squeeze the trigger a second time, Adrian Moretti stepped through the broken doorway, his Sig Nexter barking twice in rapid succession.

Thud. Thud.

Both shots struck true. The gunman dropped his weapon, clutching his shoulder and collapsing hard against the corridor wall, sliding down into a groaning heap.

“Clear!” Adrian shouted sharply, his voice cutting through the ringing silence of the smoke-filled hallway.

Dante Russo stumbled around the corner from the foyer, holding a bloody hand against a ragged gash on his forehead, his face pale and slick with sweat. He was leaning heavily against the wall, but his pistol was raised and ready.

“Boss—we’ve got two more in the service stairwell,” Dante gasped, coughing as the acrid smell of gunpowder filled his lungs. “They’re trying to flank the kitchen exit.”

“Handle them,” Adrian commanded coldly, stepping over the writhing form of the intruder pinned beneath Titan’s massive paws.

The dog had his heavy jaws clamped firmly around the man’s tactical vest, growling with a vibration that made the fallen gangster’s teeth chatter in terror.

“Please—get this damn dog off me! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!” the intruder screamed, tears streaming down his face as he stared into Titan’s dark, merciless eyes.

Adrian looked down at him with the supreme indifference of an executioner examining an insect. “You violated my home. You brought violence near a child.”

He pressed the barrel of his pistol casually against the man’s temple. “Start talking. Who gave you the security override codes?”

I stood inside the doorway of the study, holding Sophia tightly against my chest, her face buried firmly in my shoulder so she couldn't see the blood pooling on the marble floor. My entire body was shaking so violently I could barely stand. The glamorous illusion of wealth, power, and safety had been violently stripped away, leaving behind the brutal, unvarnished reality of the criminal underworld that owned our lives.

Adrian interrogated the captive with ruthless, terrifying efficiency. Within three minutes, the traitorous guard’s name was extracted, his accomplices identified, and his fate sealed with a quiet nod to Dante to have him hauled down to the basement holding cells.

Only then did Adrian turn around and walk back into the study.

The harsh, deadly aura that had defined him seconds earlier vanished the moment his eyes landed on Sophia. He quickly holstered his weapon, ran a hand through his dark hair, and stepped over the broken glass scattered across the Persian rug.

“Are you hurt?” Adrian asked, his voice dropping into a soft, urgent register as he stopped directly in front of us.

I shook my head, my lips trembling. “No. No, we’re... we’re safe.”

He reached out, his long fingers gently touching Sophia’s curly hair, brushing a stray piece of lint from her shoulder. “You were very brave, sweetheart,” he murmured to her.

Sophia slowly lifted her head from my shoulder, blinking her big brown eyes at the chaotic wreckage of the study. She looked past Adrian at the shattered double doors, then down at the scuff marks on the rug.

“Is the bad noise gone?” she asked softly.

Adrian offered a small, tender smile—a look so entirely out of place on a mafia boss standing amidst the wreckage of a gunfight that it took my breath away.

“Yes, princess,” Adrian said gently, kneeling down so he was eye-level with her. “The bad noise is gone. And it’s never coming back.”

He looked up at me, his stormy gray eyes carrying a depth of emotion that terrified me more than the gunmen in the hallway.

“Pack your bags, Elena,” Adrian said quietly.

My heart skipped a beat. A cold wave of dread washed over me. He’s firing us, I thought. After everything, he realizes we’re too much of a liability. He’s sending us away.

“I’m sorry,” I stammered, fresh tears stinging my eyes. “I know... I know we brought this danger to your door. I’ll take Sophia and leave tonight, Mr. Moretti, please just let us—”

“Not to leave,” Adrian interrupted, standing up slowly and cutting off my panic with a single, firm word.

He reached out, taking my trembling hand in his warm, calloused palm.

“I’m moving you both out of this mausoleum,” Adrian continued, his voice steady, resolute, and absolute. “Boston is no longer safe for you. My estates in Tuscany and the Swiss Alps are fully secured. We leave tomorrow morning.”

I stared at him, utterly speechless. “Tuscany? Mr. Moretti, I’m just a maid—”

“You were a maid,” Adrian corrected softly, his thumb gently brushing across my knuckles. “Starting tomorrow, you’re something far more important.”

He looked down at Sophia, who had already lost interest in the grown-up conversation and was busy trying to feed a stray piece of cracker to Titan, who sat patiently beside her like a gargantuan, gray-black angel of protection.

“You’re my family now,” Adrian said.