Six hours before anyone expected me home, I walked into my Long Island mansion with a loaded gun under my coat, another man’s blood drying on my cuff, and the kind of reputation that made armed men look at the floor when I entered a room.

The second-floor hallway was dead silent.

I reached my private study and knocked three times—our old security rhythm. The lock clicked immediately, and the heavy oak door swung inward.

Grace stood there holding a heavy brass lamp like a club, her shoulders tense, her eyes wide. Behind her, sitting on the velvet sofa, my three daughters sat huddled together under a single wool blanket.

When I stepped in, Olivia looked up at me. For the first time in fourteen months, her eyes weren't dull and vacant; they were alive with raw, desperate hope.

"Daddy?" she whispered.

The word hit me like an electric shock. My knees nearly gave out. I dropped my gun onto the desk, dropped to my knees on the Persian rug, and pulled all three of them into my arms.

They buried their small faces into my neck. Nora wept softly, her hot tears soaking into my collar, while Sophie clutched my shirt so tightly her fingernails bit into my chest.

"I'm sorry," I choked out, my voice cracking—a sound no man in New York had heard from Dominic Romano in twenty years. "I'm so sorry I didn't see it. I'm sorry I let him near you."

"He told Mommy to open the door," Sophie sobbed against my shoulder. "He was standing by the blue car. He had a radio. He talked to the man with the gun, Daddy. He told him 'Now.'"

A cold, lethal stillness settled into my blood.

It hadn't been a random drive-by or a hit by a rival syndicate. It was a targeted execution. Victor had used a hired gunman to eliminate Isabelle because Isabelle was the only one who audited the family's off-shore accounts. She had discovered Victor was stealing millions from the shipping contracts, and before she could tell me, he took her life.

I pulled back, looking at Grace.

She was standing near the window, keeping watch over the driveway below.

"Grace," I said.

She turned. "Yes, Mr. Romano?"

"You saved my children's lives today," I said, my voice dropping into an intense, solemn vow. "If Victor had realized they saw his face that day, he would have killed them too."

Grace swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "They were terrified of him. Every time his car pulled up the driveway, they would hide in the pantry. Mrs. Donnelly thought they were just playing games. But I noticed their hands trembled whenever he spoke."

"You noticed," I said softly. "When no one else did."

"I lost a sister when I was twelve, Mr. Romano," Grace said quietly, her gray eyes meeting mine with absolute clarity. "I know what fear looks like when it's forced to be silent."

I stood up, stepping toward my wall safe hidden behind a bookshelf. I spun the combination, pulled out three passports, twenty thousand dollars in cash, and a small black encrypted satellite phone.

"Victor controls the main guards at the front gate," I told her, handing her the cash and phone. "My loyal men—Luca and Frankie—are at the docks waiting for midnight. I can't trust anyone else in this house right now. Victor has eyes everywhere."

"What are you going to do?" Grace asked.

"I'm going to take you and the girls to my private safehouse in Montauk," I said. "There’s a boat docked behind the garage. We leave through the woods behind the estate. But first, I need to make sure Victor stays right where I can see him."

I picked up my gun, checked the magazine, and slid it back into my shoulder holster.

"Grace," I looked at her, holding her gaze. "If anything happens to me down there, take the boat. Drive straight to the coast guard station in New London. Use this phone to call Luca. Tell him 'Code Black.' Do you understand?"

Grace took the phone, her fingers brushing against mine. Her touch was warm, steady, and anchor-firm in the middle of the storm.

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Grace said fiercely. "They need their father, Dominic. Don't you dare die down there."

Hearing my first name on her lips felt like a promise.

I looked at my daughters one last time. "Daddy will be back in ten minutes. Stay with Grace."