“Choose one.” Barrett Hayes’s voice sliced through the ballroom on the eighty-eighth floor of the Ashford Tower. I stood against the far wall with an empty silver tray pressed tightly against my ribs,

The Ashford estate was not merely a penthouse; it was a fortress of silent warfare.

My first week passed in a blur of luxurious tension. My bedroom was larger than my entire previous apartment, with plush rugs and a private bath, but the windows were made of three-inch reinforced ballistic glass. Outside, bodyguards in tailored dark suits patrolled the perimeter with suppressed carbines.

Penny refused to let me leave her sight.

“Draw with me,” she demanded on the fourth morning, pulling my sleeve as we sat in the sunlit conservatory.

She shoved a box of pastels toward me. Beside her chair, Titan lay sprawled across the Persian rug like a dormant dragon, his heavy chin resting on my sneaker. Whenever I shifted, he let out a low rumble of contentment.

“What should we draw, Penny?” I asked gently, kneeling beside her small glass desk.

“Draw Mama,” she whispered.

My hand froze over the pastels.

In every corridor of the penthouse, Clara Ashford’s portrait hung—a stunning woman with auburn hair and delicate features who had perished in a car bombing three years prior. That bombing was the very incident that had triggered the underworld war, the night Titan had been injured and separated from Kendrick.

“I didn't know your mama, sweetheart,” I said softly, my chest aching for the child. “Tell me what she looked like to you.”

Penny’s small lips trembled. “She smelled like sweet lavender. And she sang the song about the river.”

A shockwave went through my chest.

*Lavender.*

The scent I always wore—a cheap oil my grandmother used to make from dried blooms. The same oil that had saturated the carved wooden token I had tucked into Titan’s bandages three years ago.

Titan hadn't just recognized my face. He had recognized my scent. The scent of the only person who had comforted him in the dark when his world was on fire.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the conservatory swung open.

Kendrick strode in, his face thunderous. Behind him walked Lucian, his chief consiglieri, clutching an encrypted tablet.

“Daddy!” Penny chirped, running toward him.

Kendrick caught her effortlessly with one arm, lifting her to his chest. The fierce, icy mask on his face softened instantly, his features transforming into those of a devoted father. He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Go with Maria to the kitchen, little bird. I had the chef make those chocolate crepes you like.”

Penny beamed and ran out the door. Titan stood up, watched her leave, but instead of following her, he deliberately sat down in front of me, placing himself between me and Kendrick.

Kendrick’s silver eyes narrowed as he observed the dog’s behavior.

“You have an unnatural effect on my household, Maya,” Kendrick said, stepping forward.

“I’m just doing the job you paid me for, Mr. Ashford.”

Lucian cleared his throat. “Boss, we have a problem. Barrett Hayes called an emergency summit of the Seven Families tonight at the Grand Plaza. He claims you breached council protocol by publicly insulting his daughter and elevating an unverified civilian into the inner circle.”

Kendrick sneered. “Barrett is testing my grip. He thinks Clara’s death left me soft, and that Penny is my weakness.”

“He has demanded that you attend tonight’s gala,” Lucian added grimly. “And he specifically requested that you bring Miss Vance. He wants to prove to the syndicates that your new ‘counselor’ is nothing more than a gutter stray.”

Panic surged through my veins. “I’m not going there. Those people are monsters.”

Kendrick turned his piercing gaze upon me, his voice dangerously smooth. “You are under my protection, Maya. If Barrett wants a show, I’ll give him an execution. You will wear the finest dress in New York, you will wear the Ashford family diamonds, and you will walk on my arm.”

“And if they shoot?” I demanded.

Kendrick stepped so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. His hand rose, his thumb brushing against my jawline with an intensity that sent shivers racing down my spine.