The iron gates of the Gallow estate stood wide open, swinging uselessly in the autumn rain. Dominic Gallow didn’t wait for his driver to put the sedan in park. He hit the wet gravel before the tires stopped spinning, his hand already buried under his coat, fingers wrapped around the custom grip of his Sig Sauer.

By midnight, the basement level of the Gallow estate was bathed in harsh fluorescent light. Down here, beneath three feet of soundproof concrete, sat Dominic’s private interrogation suite.

Vivien Vance was strapped to a heavy steel chair in the center of the room. Her face was cleaned, but a dark purple bruise had bloomed along her jawline where Norah’s iron poker had struck her. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, her breathing ragged.

Dominic stood on the other side of the one-way glass, accompanied by Leo.

"We swept her phone, Boss," Leo reported, handing Dominic a tablet. "She didn't tell her lieutenants she was coming here today. She thought she could slip in, torture the key out of Mrs. Gallow, and leave before you got back from the docks. She was trying to act alone so she wouldn't have to share the money with her generals."

"How much is in the Vance offshore accounts?" Dominic asked.

"Roughly four hundred million dollars," Leo replied, whistling under his breath. "Plus the original property deeds to the shipping terminals in New Jersey. Whoever holds those keys controls the entire Northern corridor."

The heavy steel door swung open, and Norah walked into the observation room. She had showered and changed into a simple black turtleneck and trousers. Her dark hair was pulled back into a neat bun, highlighting the sharp, royal angle of her jawline. Without the soft pastel dresses she usually wore, she looked strikingly like Arthur Vance.

Leo visibly shifted, stepping back half a pace to give her room. The respect in his eyes had been replaced by a healthy, terrified caution.

"She hasn't spoken," Leo offered quickly.

"She won't speak to men," Norah said smoothly, staring through the glass at her half-sister. "Our father taught her that men are tools to be manipulated or enemies to be destroyed. She only fears people who know her true weakness."

Norah reached for the door handle to the interrogation room.

"Norah, wait," Dominic said, grabbing her forearm. "You don't have to do this. I can handle Vivien. We can make her talk."

Norah looked down at his hand on her arm, then up into his eyes. Her gaze was affectionate, but absolute. "Dominic, you are very good at breaking men. But Vivien is my blood. I know how she thinks because we were raised by the same monster. Let me finish what started in our drawing room."

Dominic hesitated, then slowly released her arm. "Leo and I will be right behind the glass."

Norah nodded and stepped through the heavy door.

The lock clicked shut behind her. At the sound, Vivien’s head snapped up. When she saw Norah walking into the room, a fresh wave of panic washed over her bruised face. She pulled against her restraints, the metal clinking loudly in the small room.

"Get away from me, Eleanor," Vivien hissed, using Norah’s birth name. "If my men find out I’m here, they’ll tear this house down brick by brick!"

Norah didn't respond. She walked slowly around the steel chair, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room. She pulled a second chair out from the corner, dragged it across the floor, and sat down directly in front of her sister, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Your men don't care about you, Vivien," Norah said softly. "Old man Kosta and the Russian faction are already planning to replace you. You've lost three territory shipments this month, and you're broke. That's why you came for Father's vault key, isn't it?"

Vivien spat on the floor near Norah’s shoe. "Father left that money to the family! To the empire! Not to a pathetic coward who ran away to paint pictures!"

"Father didn't leave it to the empire," Norah corrected her, leaning in closer. "He left it to me because he knew you were unstable. He knew that if he gave you total control, you would burn the Vance family to the ground in less than a decade. And look at you. You're strapped to a chair in my husband's basement, begging for mercy."

"I never begged!" Vivien shrieked.

"You begged Dominic to keep me away from you," Norah reminded her coldly. "You were terrified because for the first time in seven years, you remembered what happened the last time you tried to cross me."

Vivien’s breath hitched. A memory flashed in her eyes—one deep, buried, and painful.

"You were sixteen," Norah continued, her voice dipping into a low, hypnotic rhythm. "You tried to poison my horse because Father gave me his gold watch instead of you. Do you remember what I did when I found out?"

Vivien squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away. "Shut up."

"I didn't tell Father," Norah whispered, leaning right into Vivien’s ear. "I walked into your bedroom while you were sleeping, put a scalpel against your carotid artery, and whispered that if you ever touched anything I loved again, I would drain you like a deer. You didn't sleep for a month, Vivien."

In the observation room, Dominic watched through the glass, his hands clenched into fists. He was seeing a side of his wife that had been forged in pure darkness.

"What do you want?" Vivien sobbed out, finally breaking under the weight of her sister’s cold stare. "What do you want from me, Eleanor?"

"I want you to call a meeting of the Vance Syndicate Council for tomorrow night," Norah instructed, her voice completely calm. "Tell Kosta and the board that you have retrieved the vault keys. Tell them we are holding a formal unification ceremony at the Grand Hotel."

Vivien opened her eyes, staring at her in shock. "They'll kill you! They won't accept you as leader after seven years!"

Norah stood up, smoothing the front of her black trousers.

"They won't have a choice," Norah said flatly. "Because when I walk into that room, I won't be coming as Dominic Gallow's quiet wife. I'll be coming as Arthur Vance's rightful heir. And anyone who disagrees will meet the same fate as our father's enemies."