At eight o’clock on a Tuesday morning, Damian Russo walked into his Tribeca headquarters and stopped cold.

Damian stumbled forward, crashing against the iron bars of Khloe's cell door. Vision blurred, blood warm and thick pouring down the back of his neck into his collar. His submachine gun splashed into the rising, freezing water near his feet.

"Damian! No!" Khloe shrieked, pressing her hands against the bars.

Julian Vance stepped into the dim lantern light, holding the iron pipe, a crazed, ecstatic grin plastered across his scarred face.

"Look at you," Julian laughed, dropping the pipe and pulling his silver .45 pistol. "The great Damian Russo, brought to his knees in a sewer for a helpless woman."

Damian gritted his teeth, wiping blood from his eyes, forcing his body to stand upright despite the blinding pain in his skull. He placed his body directly between Julian's gun and Khloe's cell.

"Leave her out of this, Julian," Damian growled, his voice a low, guttural rasp. "You want me. I'm right here. Open the cell and let her go."

"Oh, neither of you is leaving, Damian," Julian sneered, gesturing to the freezing water that was now reaching their knees. "In three minutes, the harbor water will completely fill this vault. You'll drown together in the dark, cold mud. But first... I want you to watch her die."

Julian leveled the barrel of his pistol straight at Khloe's chest through the bars.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl.

Damian didn't hesitate. He didn't think about his empire, his wealth, or his own survival. He launched his body forward, driving his shoulder straight into Julian's chest just as the gun discharged.

BANG!

The bullet shattered the concrete wall above Khloe's head.

Julian and Damian crashed into the freezing, waist-deep water. Julian swung his gun wildly, striking Damian across the face with the heavy steel frame. Damian roared in pain, but he locked his hands around Julian's wrist, twisting the weapon away.

They thrashed violently in the dark, rushing water, slamming against the stone pillars. Julian pulled a long hunting knife from his belt, plunging it downward into Damian's left shoulder.

Damian gasped, blood spurting into the dark water, but he refused to loosen his grip. Driven by a primal, absolute need to protect the woman behind him, Damian ignored the agony in his shoulder, wrapped his broad hands around Julian's throat, and drove him backward under the rushing water.

Julian thrashed wildly beneath the surface, his hands clawing uselessly at Damian's iron grip.

Damian held him down. One second. Five seconds. Ten seconds.

Until Julian's movements slowed, his eyes rolled back, and his body went completely limp in the murky water.

Damian let go, pulling himself up, gasping for air as Julian's body drifted away into the dark, flooded tunnel.

"Damian!" Khloe cried out, tears streaming down her pale, freezing cheeks. "Damian, help me!"

Damian stumbled back to the cell door. The water was now up to his chest. He reached down into the freezing water, retrieved his fallen submachine gun, pressed the barrel directly against the iron padlock, and pulled the trigger.