She traded one reckless night with Manhattan’s most lethal man to pay for her father’s burial, but the single capsule he handed her at dawn couldn't erase the secret she took away with her.

Pier 39 was a desolate stretch of concrete jutting out into the freezing waters of Lake Michigan. Bella was tied to a chair inside an empty shipping container, her wrists raw from struggling against the zip ties.

Marcus paced back and forth, checking his watch. “He loves you. The boy actually learned to love. That makes him weak.”

“It makes him human,” Bella spat. “Something you know nothing about.”

Suddenly, the lights illuminating the pier shattered in unison. Pitch black darkness swallowed the shipping yard. Gunfire erupted, but it was silenced, precise, and brutally fast. Thud after thud echoed outside the container as Marcus’s men dropped to the concrete.

Marcus panicked, raising his gun and pointing it directly at Bella’s stomach. “Don't move, Lucas! Or she dies right now!”

A shadow detached itself from the ceiling of the container.

Lucas didn't use a gun. He dropped silently behind Marcus, wrapping a thick wire garrote around the older man’s throat. Marcus fired a wild shot into the ceiling before dropping the gun, clawing desperately at his own neck.

“You took my family,” Lucas whispered directly into Marcus’s ear, tightening the wire. “You tried to take my future. You die in the dark.”

With a sickening crunch, Marcus went limp. Lucas let the body fall, immediately rushing to Bella, slicing through her bindings with a hunting knife.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, pulling her into his chest. “I’ve got you.”