Three hundred guests watched the fiancée of New York's most feared mafia boss swing her jeweled heel toward my leg, trying to send me crashing into a tower of champagne glasses

Two days later, the penthouse had transformed into an impenetrable fortress.

Mateo was resting in a state-of-the-art medical recovery room on the east wing of the sixty-fifth floor, breathing cleanly under the supervision of Manhattan’s finest private pulmonologists. Alexander had spared no expense; the medications imported from Switzerland had stabilized Mateo’s lungs within hours. My mother was asleep in an adjacent guest suite, watched over by a team of private nurses and round-the-clock guards.

I stood on the glass balcony, the cold autumn wind whipping my dark hair.

"You haven't slept in forty-eight hours," a deep voice noted from behind me.

I didn't turn. "I can't sleep when I know Victor Lane is still breathing the same air as my family."

Alexander walked up beside me, leaning his forearms against the steel railing. He wore a crisp white shirt, the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing faint silver scars from bullet wounds sustained six years ago.

"Victor Lane is cornered," Alexander said. "He knows the Ashford board is moving to seize his assets. Tonight is the annual Metropolitan Heritage Gala. Every high-ranking family, every syndicate head, and every politician will be in attendance. Victor will be forced to show his face to save his business alliances."

"And you're going," I said, turning to look at him.

"I am the head of this family. If I hide behind my walls, it signals weakness. Blood in the water." He looked directly at me. "I want you by my side."

"As what? A maid?"

"As my guest. And my partner." Alexander reached into his pocket and placed an antique wooden box on the railing between us.

I opened it. Inside lay two polished rattan sticks, smooth and dark with age, inlaid with mother-of-pearl filigree.

My breath caught. "These are... my father's training sticks. How did you get these?"

"I had my men retrieve them from your closet before we sealed the apartment," Alexander said softly. "A master's weapons should never stay hidden in the dark. Tonight, Sophia, the underworld needs to see that the Ashford family does not stand alone. They need to see the daughter of Miguel Reyes."

"My father taught me to protect life, Alexander. Not to play mafia politics."

"Victor Lane doesn't want politics. He wants to burn this city to maintain his power," Alexander said, his eyes darkening with intensity. "Protecting life means eliminating those who butcher it without remorse. Help me protect this city. Help me protect your family."

Four hours later, we arrived at the grand ballroom of the Metropolitan Museum.

The doors parted, and a hush washed over the hundreds of guests gathered beneath the soaring vaulted ceilings.

I walked beside Alexander, wearing an elegant, floor-length emerald green gown made of silk that hid thin Kevlar lining beneath the fabric. My hair was swept up in an intricate braid, leaving my neck bare, radiating quiet confidence.

At the center of the hall stood Victor Lane, a burly, silver-haired patriarch with vicious eyes, flanked by his disgraced daughter Victoria and a retinue of private security.

When Victoria saw me on Alexander's arm, her jaw dropped in absolute fury.

"Alexander!" Victor Lane boomed, stepping forward, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare show your face here after sending goons to raid my shipping yards?"

"You sent killers to an innocent woman's home, Victor," Alexander replied, his voice calm, chillingly loud enough for the entire room to hear. "You violated the foundational code of the five families. You targeted bloodline debts."

"Code?" Victor scoffed, taking another step forward. "This is business! You chose a peasant maid over my daughter! You chose dirt over an empire!"

"She is not a maid," Alexander said, stepping slightly aside so I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. "She is the daughter of Miguel Reyes. And as of tonight, anyone who raises a hand against her or her family answers directly to me."

Victoria laughed shrilly. "You're both pathetic! Do you really think you're walking out of this museum alive?"

Suddenly, the heavy crystal chandeliers overhead flickered and plunged the vast hall into total darkness.

Screams erupted from the high-society guests.