The child came through the hedge on a Tuesday afternoon like she had decided the gap was there specifically for her.

Rain lashed against Luca's face as he stepped off the covered porch into the roaring storm.

The mud was deep, pulling at his boots, threatening to tear his fragile balance away with every step. Twelve years of paralysis screamed in his nerves, but Luca ignored the pain. His mind was narrowed down to a single, burning point of focus: Maya.

At the edge of the privet hedge, two mercenaries were dragging Elena toward the open side door of the black van. Maya was screaming, kicking wildly against the heavy grip of a third hitman.

Luca raised his pistol.

THWIP! THWIP!

Two rounds echoed softly through the storm. The gunman holding Elena collapsed instantly into the mud, two holes drilled through his chest.

The remaining mercenaries froze, turning their flashlights toward the hedge.

Out of the darkness stepped Luca Costello.

He wasn't sitting in a wheelchair. He was standing tall, his black coat billowing in the wind, his eyes cold as glacial ice, the pistol held steady in his right hand.

"Costello...?" the lead mercenary stammered, his eyes widening in pure horror as if he were looking at a corpse risen from the grave. "How the hell are you standing?!"

"You're in my garden," Luca said.

THWIP! THWIP! THWIP!

Luca fired with lethal, terrifying precision. Three shots, three kills. The lead hitman dropped before his body even hit the wet grass. The third man dropped Maya, reaching for his weapon, but Luca closed the distance in four long, heavy strides, driving his boot straight into the man's chest.

The hitman slammed against the side of the van, gasping for air, before Luca pressed the warm barrel of his pistol directly against the man's forehead.

"Who ordered this?" Luca growled.

"Marcus!" the hitman sobbed, raising his hands in terror. "Marcus! He's at the dock summit right now! He told us to bring the girl to him as leverage before he declares himself Boss!"

Luca pulled the trigger.

Silence fell over the hedge gap, broken only by the howling wind and the patter of heavy rain.

Luca turned around. Elena was kneeling in the mud, clutching a crying Maya tightly against her chest. Tommy was stumbling out through the hedge, holding his bruised jaw, but his eyes were wide as saucers as he stared at Luca.

Luca dropped to one knee—a smooth, controlled movement that would have been impossible three weeks ago. He looked into Maya's brown eyes.

"Are you hurt?" Luca asked gently.

Maya shook her head, tears mixing with the rain on her cheeks. She reached out her small hands and touched Luca's cheek.

"You're standing," she whispered. "Your legs woke up."