Alexei Petrov’s body jerked violently.

A sharp, rattling gasp tore from his throat, his chest heaving upward as a violent shudder wracked his massive frame. His eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that were no longer dulled by death, but burning with the terrifying, razor-sharp awareness of an apex predator jolted back into consciousness.

“Boss!” Dmitri dropped to his knees, his face crumpling with emotion he usually reserved for ghosts.

Alexei didn't answer immediately. He coughed, a harsh, racking sound, and spat a drop of dark bile onto the rug. His heavy hand came up, gripping the edge of the mahogany desk as he hoisted himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the blood vessels bursting in his pale cheeks.

His ice-blue eyes swept across the room with terrifying speed—taking in the shattered window, the security tablet on the floor, Nikolai cowering against the bookshelf, Viktor holding his weapon at the ready, and finally, resting squarely upon me and my daughter.

“Who…” Alexei’s voice was a gravelly rasp, like grinding stones. He cleared his throat, glaring up at Dmitri. “Who gave the order?”

“Nobody gave it yet, boss,” Dmitri said grimly. “Someone tried to take you out with a dart through the conservatory window. Nikolai disabled the alarm at three.”

Alexei’s gaze shifted to the young recruit. Nikolai looked like he was about to pass out, his knees buckling beneath him.

“I-I swear on my mother’s grave, Mr. Petrov! I didn't know! A man called me—he sounded like Senator Vance’s office—he said there was an electrical audit—” Nikolai sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

Alexei didn't raise his voice. He didn't pull a hidden weapon. He simply stared at the boy with a cold, deadpan stare that was ten times more terrifying than a roar.

“Senator Vance,” Alexei repeated softly, tasting the name like poison on his tongue. “The clean politician with the dirty hands. He wants the downtown development contracts. He thinks removing me clears the board.”

“Shall I send a message, boss?” Viktor asked, his hand tightening around his grip.

“Not yet,” Alexei rasped, pushing himself fully to his feet with a groan of protest. He swayed slightly, his massive frame supported only by sheer willpower, before his eyes locked back onto Sophie.

The little girl was standing right in front of him, holding her pink plastic stethoscope with both hands like an offering.

“Your ticker is beating again,” Sophie announced proudly. “You’re welcome.”

Alexei stared down at her for a long, heavy moment. The terrifying mafia boss—a man who made grown men wet themselves with a single glance—slowly knelt down until he was eye-level with a four-year-old in a yellow duck shirt.

The harsh lines of his face softened, carved away by something profound and entirely unexpected.

“You saved my life, little doctor,” Alexei said, his voice dropping into a gentle, rumbling register that sounded nothing like the crime lord the city feared.

“I told you I was a doctor,” Sophie said matter-of-factly. “My mommy says you have to pay me now. One lollipop per visit.”

A sudden, sharp bark of laughter escaped Alexei’s chest—a dark, genuine sound that shocked everyone in the room. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small, foil-wrapped square of imported dark chocolate, and placed it solemnly into her tiny palm.

“Payment in full,” Alexei murmured.

He stood up, towering over the room once more, and turned his ice-blue eyes toward me. The warmth vanished from his expression, replaced by a cold, calculating steel that made my stomach drop.

“Clara,” he said, his voice cutting through the air. “Pack your things.”

My heart stopped. After everything—after Sophie saved his life, after standing shoulder-to-shoulder with his inner circle—was he firing us? Was he casting us out to protect us from the war that was about to begin?

“Mr. Petrov, please,” I stammered, stepping forward. “We can leave Chicago tonight. We won’t say anything to anyone, I swear—we’ll disappear—”

“Quiet, Clara,” Alexei interrupted, his tone unyielding. He turned to Dmitri. “Get the armored sedan ready. Not the town house. The estate in the Wisconsin woods. Senator Vance thinks he can play chess in my city? We’re moving the board.”

Dmitri nodded sharply. “And the boy?” He glanced at Nikolai.

Alexei didn't even look at the cowering recruit. “Lock him in the wine cellar until this is over. If he’s a spy, he can think about his betrayal among the vintage reds. If he’s just stupid, the air down there will cure him.”

Alexei turned back to me, taking a slow step forward until he was standing uncomfortably close, the scent of cedarwood and bitter almonds washing over me.

“You aren't fired, Clara,” he said quietly, so only I could hear. “You and your daughter are staying with me. Because as of today, nobody in this city is safe outside these walls. And if Senator Vance wants war… he’s going to find out what happens when you poison a man who has a doctor on his payroll.”