A mafia boss slapped me, accused me of dumping his seven-month-old daughter in the trash, and had me dragged away after I saved her from freezing to death. Three days later, a detective uncovered one detail that shattered the nanny’s story, then showed me a photograph that made me realize this was far bigger than attempted murder.

Karen didn't get a chance to run.

Before she could even reach the top of the staircase, Dante was behind her. He grabbed her by the back of her uniform, lifted her off her feet, and slammed her hard against the wood-paneled wall of the corridor.

"Don't move," Dante growled, pressing his forearm against her throat until she whimpered.

Adrian stood in the middle of the nursery, his gun still in his hand, his chest heaving as if he had just run a marathon. He looked at the prescription bottle in his hand, then looked up at me.

The backhand he had given me three days ago seemed to hang between us like an invisible specter.

He took three steps toward me. I braced myself, expecting another outburst of violence.

Instead, Adrian dropped his gun onto the leather armchair, stepped close, and reached out with a trembling hand. His long, calloused fingers gently brushed the dark purple bruise on my jawline—the mark his ring had left.

"You came back," he murmured, his deep voice cracking with a sudden, unbelievable surge of remorse. "I hit you... I locked you in a cellar... and you came back to save my child."

"I didn't come back for you, Adrian," I said, pulling my face away from his touch, keeping my chin high. "I came back for Emma. And I came back because I need two hundred thousand dollars to keep my sister alive."

Adrian blinked, taken aback by my cold, unapologetic honesty.

"Your sister?" he asked softly.

"Lucia," I said, tears finally burning the corners of my eyes. "She’s nineteen. She has a terminal valve defect. She has two months left unless she gets a specialized transplant in Ohio. I spent five years saving twenty thousand dollars while cleaning your floors. And while I was sitting in a jail cell because your nanny lied, my sister was dying in a public hospital."

Adrian closed his eyes for three long seconds. When he opened them, the hollow, ruined man who had been weeping beside a crib was gone.

The Don of the Valente syndicate had returned.

"Dante!" Adrian barked, his voice ringing through the hallway like thunder.

Dante dragged a sobbing, terrified Karen into the doorway. "Yeah, boss?"

"Call Dr. Vance at the Northwestern Heart Institute," Adrian ordered, his eyes never leaving mine. "Tell him he has ten minutes to prepare a private medical transport for Maya’s sister, Lucia. Have her moved to the private wing at St. Anthony’s tonight. Pay whatever surgeon he wants. Give them a blank check from my personal account."

My breath hitched in my throat. "Adrian... you don't have to—"

"I hit an innocent woman who froze her own body to keep my daughter alive," Adrian cut me off, his dark eyes burning with an intense, immovable determination. "Your sister gets her heart, Maya. That is not a negotiation. That is the first installment of what I owe you."