You’re my daddy,” the little girl said, staring straight into my eyes. “And you let my mommy go hungry.”

Twenty minutes later, three armored black Suburbans with tinted ballistic glass blocked the narrow mouth of 44th Street.

My inner security unit—sixteen men dressed in charcoal wool overcoats with suppressed sidearms concealed beneath their jackets—swept the stairwell in absolute silence. When I walked through the front entrance of the tenement building carrying Sophie wrapped in my heavy cashmere coat, with Elena guarded by Marco on my left, the neighborhood went dead still.

"Where are you taking us?" Elena asked as we slid into the reinforced rear cabin of the lead vehicle.

"To the penthouse at 740 Park Avenue," I said, locking the heavy door with a heavy mechanical click. "The private elevator requires my retinal scan and dual biometric passcodes. The perimeter is monitored by twenty-four-hour tactical teams. You and Sophie will never spend another night in fear."

Elena looked out the window as the convoy accelerated toward Central Park. "Nico will know the moment you entered that building, Matteo. His spotters are on every corner of Midtown."

"I want him to know," I replied coldly. "I want him to know that every lie he built over six years has just collapsed."

The penthouse was an expanse of floor-to-ceiling glass, limestone floors, and warm, modern elegance. When the elevator doors opened into the private vestibule, Sophie gasped, her eyes wide as she took in the sweeping panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline illuminated against the evening sky.

"Is this a castle?" Sophie whispered, holding tightly to my finger.

"It is your home, Sophie," I said gently, crouching to unbutton her worn coat. "Everything inside these walls belongs to you and your mother."

Maria, my long-time housekeeper who had served my father for thirty years, stepped into the foyer with a tray of warm broth, fresh bread, and fruit. When her eyes landed on Sophie’s gray eyes and chestnut curls, Maria dropped the silver tongs, placing her hand over her heart in utter shock.

"Lord in heaven..." Maria breathed, tears welling in her eyes. "She has the master’s eyes. She is a true Caruso."

"Maria," I commanded softly. "Prepare the master suite on the east wing for Elena, and the adjoining sunroom for Sophie. Bring Dr. Aris Thorne from our private medical facility. I want full nutritional, blood, and pediatric screenings completed within the hour."

Elena stepped forward, her voice trembling with exhaustion. "Matteo... we don't need charity."

"This is not charity, Elena," I said, stepping close to her, my voice dropping to a fierce, low whisper. "This is six years of stolen life that I am taking back. You will never sleep on a broken sofa again. You will never skip a meal so our daughter can eat. Every debt owed to you will be paid in blood and gold."

My satellite phone chimed in my pocket.