“ARMS UP, MR. DINOSAUR!” I raised both arms.

I stared at the child’s drawing of the silver cane, the air completely evaporating from the underground war room.

The nice man with the cane said he will take me to see my mommy.

“Where did she get this?” I demanded, snatching the paper from Clara’s trembling hand.

“She said she drew it last night,” Clara whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “Before the attack on the penthouse. She said the man with the cane visited her in her bedroom while she was sleeping.”

My blood ran cold.

Silvio hadn't just bypassed lobby security today. He had been in my penthouse last night.

He had spoken to Lily. He had planted the seed.

I spun around, looking at the security feeds on the wall monitors. The fifty armed men patrolling the snowy perimeter of the Catskills estate looked secure.

But a fortress is only as strong as the men guarding the gates.

“Dante,” I said, my voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm register. “Who was on night watch at the penthouse yesterday?”

Dante checked his tablet. His face went pale.

“Marco, Boss. Marco was running the night shift.”

Marco.

My security chief. The man who had laughed at my pink tutu. The man who had driven the SUV tonight.

The man who had supposedly "saved" us from Silvio’s ambush on the highway.

“Where is Marco right now?” I asked, drawing my gun.

Dante tapped the screen frantically. “He logged into the main security grid ten minutes ago. He’s in the server room.”

“He’s shutting down the perimeter,” I realized, the horrifying truth settling in. “The ambush on the highway was a setup. Marco intentionally drove us into that box so Silvio could get the ledger. When that failed, Marco drove us here to disable the fortress from the inside.”

I looked at Clara. “Go back upstairs. Lock yourself in the bedroom with Lily. Do not open the door for anyone but me.”

Clara didn't hesitate. She ran.

I looked at Dante. “Gather the loyal men. Secure the perimeter manually. I’ll handle Marco.”

I sprinted out of the war room, navigating the labyrinth of concrete corridors beneath the lodge.

The server room was at the far end of the basement, heavily reinforced with a steel door.

I didn't try the handle. I kicked the door perfectly adjacent to the electronic lock. The heavy steel buckled, the magnetic seal breaking with a loud crack.

I burst into the room, my gun raised.

Marco was standing frantically at the main terminal, typing codes into the grid.

He spun around, drawing his weapon, but he was a fraction of a second too late.

BANG.

I didn't shoot to kill. I shot him in the right shoulder.

Marco screamed, dropping his gun as the impact spun him backward into the server racks.

I crossed the room in two strides, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the blinking servers.

“You sold me out,” I growled, pressing the hot barrel of my gun directly under his chin. “After fifteen years, you sold me to Victor Falcone.”

Marco coughed up blood, a bitter, twisted smile on his face.

“I didn't sell you to Victor, Boss,” Marco wheezed, his eyes filled with defiant hatred. “I sold you to Silvio. Because Silvio is the only one who knows the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That your father was a monster!” Marco spat. “Joseph Moretti didn't just authorize Julian’s murder. He authorized the hit on my little brother! My brother was driving the escort car the night Julian was killed!”

I froze.

Marco’s younger brother, Leo, had died in the bridge explosion five years ago. I had paid for the funeral. I had promised Marco I would find the men responsible.

“Silvio showed me the tape,” Marco choked out, tears mixing with the blood on his face. “Silvio showed me your father shaking hands with Victor Falcone. You built an empire on my brother’s grave, Dominic. I’m just balancing the scales.”

The betrayal was complex, tangled in years of lies and grief. Marco wasn't doing this for money. He was doing it for revenge against my father’s sins.

But understanding his motive didn't change the reality of the threat.

“By shutting down the grid, you’re handing a six-year-old girl over to Victor Falcone,” I said coldly. “You think that balances the scales?”

Marco’s defiant expression faltered for a second. “Silvio said Victor only wanted the ledger. He said the girl wouldn't be hurt.”

“You’re a fool,” I whispered.

Suddenly, all the lights in the server room went pitch black.

The hum of the massive computers died instantly.

Marco had finished the override before I shot him. The perimeter defenses were completely down. The electrified fences were dead. The security cameras were blind.

And from outside the heavy concrete walls, the deafening sound of a helicopter rotor beat against the winter wind.

“They’re here,” Marco whispered in the dark.

I dropped him to the floor and sprinted back into the hallway.

Red emergency lights flickered on, casting blood-red shadows across the concrete.

The radio on my belt crackled to life.

“Boss!” Dante yelled over the static. “We have heavily armed hostiles breaching the south lawn! They repelled from two Blackhawks! It’s an assault team, minimum forty men!”

“Hold the main floor!” I barked into the radio, running up the stairs toward the residential wing taking the steps three at a time.

I reached the second-floor landing.

The door to the master bedroom—where Clara and Lily were hiding—was hanging wide open. The wood was splintered around the lock.

“Clara!” I roared, bursting into the room.

The room was empty.

The window overlooking the snowy mountain ridge was shattered.

But lying on the carpet, stained with a fresh drop of blood, was Clara’s cheap silver ring.