A CRIME SYNDICATE BOSS WATCHED A SEVEN-YEAR-OLD BOY COUNT COINS FOR MILK AND APPLES, BUT WHEN HE SAW HIS SICK MOTHER WAITING OUTSIDE, HE REALIZED THE MAN WHO HAD BEEN HUNTING THEM WAS SOMEONE HE SHOULD HAVE BURIED FIVE YEARS AGO

While Elena slept under heavy sedation, Roman retreated to his private study, a room walled with glass overlooking the dark, rain-swept valley. He poured two fingers of bourbon but didn't drink it.

Silas walked in, shutting the heavy oak door behind him. “The perimeter is locked down. Nobody knows they’re here. Do you want to tell me what’s going on, Roman? Who is that woman?”

Roman stared at his reflection in the glass. “Five years ago, before I took over the syndicate, my older brother, Mateo, was running the Southside docks. He was brokering a peace treaty with the Vance Cartel.”

Silas nodded slowly. “I remember. The deal went bad. Mateo was murdered.”

“It didn't go bad,” Roman corrected, his voice a lethal whisper. “Marcus Vance set him up. He invited Mateo to a neutral location, shot him in the back of the head, and dumped him in the river. I went to war. I slaughtered half of Vance’s lieutenants, but Marcus vanished. He went entirely off the grid.”

“And the woman?”

“Elena was Marcus’s wife,” Roman said, turning around. “She was a civilian. She tried to warn Mateo about the ambush, but she was too late. Marcus found out she tried to help us. The rumors said Marcus killed her before he fled the city. I believed the rumors. I should have kept hunting him.”

Silas frowned. “If she’s alive, and the kid is seven... that means Leo is Marcus’s son.”

“No,” Roman snapped, a fierce protectiveness flaring in his chest. “Marcus lost the right to that title the day he put his hands on her. Leo is a boy who counts pennies for apples. He’s nothing like that monster.”