My boss’s six-year-old son pointed at me in a hallway full of dangerous men and announced that I was too beautiful to be alone, so I should become his mommy. Everyone expected Adrian Kane, Manhattan’s most feared crime boss, to shut him down, but instead he asked one quiet question, and his little boy’s answer wiped every trace of color from his face.

The air in the room turned to ash.

Marcus stood by the door, his suit perfectly pressed, his gun drawn and pointed directly at Adrian’s chest. The blood-stained rosary dangled from his fingers, swinging like a pendulum.

“David,” I gasped, stepping toward the rosary before I could stop myself.

Adrian’s arm shot out, catching me by the waist and pulling me behind his broad back in one fluid, protective motion. He shielded me completely, placing himself between the gun and his family.

His family. The thought flickered in my mind, wildly inappropriate for the moment, but undeniable. He was protecting Noah and me with his own body.

“Marcus,” Adrian said, his voice disturbingly calm. “You’ve been with me for ten years. You know how this ends.”

“It ends with a new boss,” Marcus replied flatly. “Eleanor promised me the docks. All I have to do is leave this room with the boy, and leave you and the secretary on the floor.”

“What did you do to my brother?” I screamed from behind Adrian, my terror morphing into blind rage.

Marcus smirked. “He figured out the truth, Clara. He found out Eleanor killed your mother, not Adrian. He tried to back out of the hit. So, Eleanor tied up a loose end.” He tossed the bloody rosary onto the floor. It clattered against the marble like broken glass. “He’s gone.”

A sob tore through my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face against the back of Adrian’s suit jacket.

“Noah,” Adrian said softly, not breaking eye contact with Marcus. “Get under the desk. Cover your ears.”

Noah didn't hesitate. He scrambled under the heavy mahogany desk, clutching Gerald to his chest.

“It’s three against one, Adrian,” Marcus sneered. “My men are outside the door. You have nowhere to go.”

“You’re right about one thing,” Adrian said smoothly, his muscles coiling under my hands. “You are on the wrong side of the door.”

Before Marcus could register the words, Adrian kicked the heavy velvet armchair in front of him. It slammed into Marcus’s knees, throwing him off balance for a fraction of a second.

It was all Adrian needed.

He moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance and gripping Marcus’s wrist, twisting it upward. The gun fired, the deafening crack shattering the office window, raining glass down on the street below.

I screamed, dropping to my knees as the two men crashed into the bookshelf.

Adrian was merciless. He disarmed Marcus and drove his elbow into the man’s jaw with a sickening crunch. Marcus slumped to the floor, unconscious.

Adrian stood up, his chest heaving, his knuckles split and bleeding. He looked at me, his eyes wild and protective. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I sobbed, crawling forward to pick up the bloody rosary. I pressed it to my chest, weeping for the brother I had just found and lost again.

Adrian knelt beside me, his large, warm hands cupping my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “Clara, look at me. Look at me.”

I forced my eyes open to meet his.

“Marcus is a liar,” Adrian whispered fiercely. “He said David was gone. But look at the blood on this rosary. It’s dry. It’s days old. If Eleanor had killed him today for backing out, it would be fresh.”

My breath caught. “You think he’s alive?”

“I know he’s alive,” Adrian said, pulling me to my feet. “And I know where he is. But we have to move. Now.”

He rushed to the desk and pulled Noah out from underneath. “You did so good, buddy.”

“Dad, you’re bleeding,” Noah said, pointing to Adrian’s side.

I gasped. A dark crimson stain was spreading across the crisp white fabric of Adrian’s shirt, just beneath his ribs. The bullet from Marcus’s gun hadn't missed entirely.

“It’s nothing,” Adrian lied, his face growing pale. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy black keycard. He pressed it into my shaking hands. “Take Noah. Go to the private elevator. It goes straight to the underground garage. My black car is waiting.”

“I’m not leaving you!” I cried, grabbing his lapels.

“You have to,” Adrian groaned, swaying slightly as the blood loss took its toll. “Eleanor’s men will breach that door in sixty seconds. If they get Noah… if they get you…” He stopped, his forehead resting against mine. “I can’t lose you, Clara. I won’t survive it.”

A heavy, violent pounding began on the locked office door.

“Open up, Kane!” a voice roared from the hallway.

Adrian shoved me toward the hidden panel in the wall. “Go!”

I grabbed Noah’s hand and swiped the keycard. The panel slid open, revealing the private elevator. We stepped inside, but as the doors began to close, I looked back.

Adrian was standing in the center of the room, picking up Marcus’s discarded gun, turning to face the splintering oak doors alone.

Then, my eyes darted to the floor.

Marcus was smiling. He wasn't unconscious anymore. He was reaching into his jacket.