The most dangerous man in New York had ignored gunshots without blinking, buried friends without crying, and once finished dinner while three armed men waited outside to kill him.

The tiny kitchen felt completely still. Rain continued to lash against the window glass, but inside the apartment, the silence was suffocating.

Landon didn't react with outward rage. He didn't smash the table or shout. Instead, his entire aura hardened into something terrifyingly cold and absolute.

Dominic Hale had been Landon’s personal bodyguard for seven years. He had stood beside Landon at Santino’s funeral. He had carried Leo on his shoulders at the boy's third birthday party. He was the man currently overseeing the perimeter security around the building downstairs.

"Dominic," Landon said softly, testing the name on his tongue like poison.

"He's the one who was searching my apartment," Clara insisted, her voice tight with fear. "I recognize the way he moves, Landon. He walks with a slight limp in his right knee—an old gunshot injury. The man in my apartment had that exact same gait."

Landon looked down at the binder. "If Dominic was working for the buyer behind those offshore accounts, then every movement I’ve made for the last eighteen months has been reported directly to them."

"And if he realizes you found me tonight," Clara added, her gray-blue eyes wide with panic, "he won't just come for me. He'll realize you know the truth."

Right on cue, the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the wooden stairwell outside Clara’s apartment door.

Landon moved instantly. He grabbed Clara by the arm, pulling her away from the center of the room and shoving her behind the shadow of the refrigerator. He reached into his shoulder holster, drawing a sleek, silenced black pistol in one smooth motion.

"Landon," Clara whispered, her heart hammering violently.

"Stay behind me," Landon ordered, his voice barely a breath against her ear.

The wooden door handle of the apartment turned slowly. The lock gave a quiet, metallic click.

The door swung open four inches. Through the gap, the barrel of a suppressed weapon glided into the room, followed by the silhouette of a tall man in a dark tactical jacket.

"Boss?" Dominic’s voice called out quietly from the doorway, sounding entirely calm, entirely professional. "I saw your car parked around the corner. I brought two men up from the street to secure the hall. Did you find her?"

Landon stepped out from the shadow of the wall, his pistol raised and leveled directly at Dominic’s forehead.

Dominic froze in the doorway, his eyes darting from the gun to Landon’s face. The two armed guards standing behind Dominic in the hallway immediately reached for their sidearms.

"Tell them to drop their weapons, Dominic," Landon commanded, his voice dead of all warmth. "Or your brains will be on that wall before their hands reach their coats."

Dominic stared at Landon for two tense seconds. Slowly, a dark, cynical smile spread across Dominic’s face, erasing seven years of fake loyalty in an instant.

"Lower your guns, boys," Dominic told the guards behind him without turning around. "The boss caught us."

The two men slowly unholstered their weapons and laid them on the hallway floor.

"Why, Dominic?" Landon asked, his arm steady as stone. "My family gave you everything. Santino trusted you."

Dominic sneered, his eyes flashing with long-suppressed hatred. "Santino was weak, Landon. He spent more time worrying about moral balance and his son's music than expanding our territory. And you? You've spent two years mourning a ghost while the Falcones took over the Jersey routes."

"Who bought you?" Landon demanded.

"Someone who understands that authority belongs to men who actually use it," Dominic replied smoothly. He reached casually toward his left hand, turning the black onyx signet ring on his finger. "You're too late, Landon. The binder doesn't matter anymore. The deal with the syndicate closes at midnight tonight at the Brooklyn terminal. By tomorrow morning, the Moretti family name will be history."

"You forgot one detail, Dominic," Landon said softly.

Dominic frowned slightly. "What's that?"