The snow came at Josie Larkin's face like blown sand, and she had lost a shoe somewhere behind her. Seven months pregnant, barefoot on ice, she stepped into the middle of the beltway and raised both arms to the sky because no one stops for a woman waving from the shoulder.

The quiet hum of diesel engines filled the tense air as the three black SUVs sat idling in front of the locked iron gates. The eighty-three dockworkers immediately stopped what they were doing, gathering in a dense, silent wall in front of the truck carrying Odessa and Josie.

The driver's side door of the lead SUV opened. A man stepped out into the freezing wind.

He wore an tailored cashmere coat that cost more than a dockworker made in six months, polished leather boots that stepped carelessly through the dirty slush, and gold-rimmed glasses that reflected the glaring headlights behind him.

It was Julian Ror.

Beside him stepped the tall man in the gray knit cap who had walked into the Blue Kettle hours earlier.

"Emmett," Julian called out, his voice smooth, refined, and completely devoid of warmth. "I had a feeling I’d find you here. When the yard security system reported eighty union workers crashing the gates, I knew only one person in Chicago had the nerve to pull off such a stunt."

Emmett stepped forward, passing through the wall of dockworkers until he stood alone in the snowy open space between the two groups.

"You're late, Julian," Emmett said calmly. "We already cut the lock."

Julian glanced past Emmett, his eyes landing on Josie sitting on the tailgate of the flatbed. A thin, cold smile touched his lips.

"Ah. Miss Larkin," Julian said, taking a step closer. "You've caused a tremendous amount of inconvenience tonight. Running across a frozen highway, stopping traffic... very dramatic. But entirely unnecessary."

"You tried to murder her friend," Josie shouted, her voice shaking with rage as she stood up on the truck bed, holding the heavy wool coat around her. "You locked Odessa in an airtight box!"

"I did no such thing," Julian replied smoothly, adjusting his silk scarf. "My security team was tasked with securing legal documents that Miss Larkin's late husband left behind. The older woman interfered with a federal process. She was temporarily detained until the paperwork could be properly executed."

"Detained?" Grady Nolan roared, stepping beside Emmett with a heavy steel crowbar resting across his shoulder. "You locked a human being in a sub-zero freezer unit, you rich bastard! That's attempted murder!"

Julian didn't even glance at Grady. He kept his eyes locked on his brother. "Emmett, step aside. This has nothing to do with you or the union. This is private Ror Enterprise business."

"Everything that carries my name is my business," Emmett answered, his voice low and dangerous. "What was in those papers, Julian? What did father leave behind that you're so desperate to sign away?"

Julian's smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating glare. "Our father was a fool who believed in sentimentality. He left a twenty-percent voting share of Ror Logistics in a private trust to David Larkin—Josie's late husband—before David died in that shipyard accident two years ago. Those shares were supposed to revert to the family upon his death."

"Unless he had an heir," Josie whispered, her hand instinctively dropping to her pregnant stomach.

The entire yard went deathly quiet.

Emmett turned his head slightly, looking at Josie. The pieces finally fell into place. David Larkin hadn't been just a dockworker; he had been the son of the master shipbuilder who helped Emmett’s father build the company fifty years ago. The trust wasn't a mistake—it was a blood promise.

"If Josie signs those papers," Emmett said, turning back to his brother, "she forfeits her child's inheritance. She forfeits the right to investigate how David actually died in your shipyard."

"David's death was an accident," Julian spat out, his voice losing its polished composure for the first time. "And those shares belong to the board! I am taking those documents back tonight, Emmett. One way or another."

The tall man in the gray cap stepped up beside Julian, reaching into his heavy coat. Behind him, six armed security men stepped out of the other SUVs, their hands resting on concealed holsters.

"You brought six men with guns," Emmett observed quietly.

He glanced back at the crowd behind him. Eighty-three dockworkers stepped forward in unison, their boots hitting the snow with a sound like thunder. Heavy chains clanked against steel. Cutting torches flared brightly against the darkness.

"I brought eighty-three men who built this city," Emmett added softly. "Do you really like your odds, Julian?"

Julian looked at the wall of iron-jawed men, their faces hardened by decades of brutal labor, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the freezing storm. He knew that if a single shot were fired, not one of his security guards would leave the yard alive.

"This isn't over, Emmett," Julian hissed, backing toward his SUV. "She can't hide behind your union forever. The law is on my side. By morning, I will have an injunction for those papers."

"Try it," Emmett said. "And I'll open the company books to the Federal Maritime Commission."

Julian froze, his hand on the door handle of his vehicle. He glared at Emmett with pure hatred, then pulled himself inside and slammed the door. The three SUVs reversed sharply, spun their tires on the ice, and sped out through the broken security gates, disappearing into the whiteout.

The dockworkers let out a collective cheer, slamming their tools against the metal containers.

Emmett walked back to the truck, looking up at Josie. The wind was picking up again, blowing thick sheets of snow across the yard.

"We need to get you and Odessa to a safe house," Emmett said, reaching out to help her down from the tailgate. "My family's main estate in Lake Forest has private medical staff and security that Julian can't touch."

Josie looked down at the stranger who had stopped his car on a frozen highway, dragged eighty men into a blizzard, and stood up to his own brother for her.

"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked softly. "You don't even know me."