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.

Lucas crossed the room in three strides, ripping the locket from her hand. He stared at the two identical crests. The math was terrifyingly simple. Marcus Thorne, the man who had raised Lucas, the man who had supposedly protected him, was the one who planted the bomb. Marcus had killed the Morettis, stolen the empire, and raised the orphaned Lucas as his violent attack dog.

“He told me the Russians did it,” Lucas whispered, his voice hollow. “He pointed me at his enemies, and I killed them all for him.”

“He killed my family,” Bella said, tears finally spilling over. “He forced my mother to run and hide me with a hotel maid just to keep me alive. And now… you work for him.”

“I don't work for him anymore,” Lucas said. He looked at Bella’s stomach, then up to her eyes. “I took over the empire five years ago. Marcus is retired. He thinks he’s safe.”

Before Lucas could say another word, the sound of shattered glass echoed from downstairs. The compound’s alarm system began shrieking, a deafening siren that vibrated through the floorboards.

Gunfire erupted. Heavy, automatic, and close.

Lucas didn't hesitate. He grabbed Bella by the waist, shoving her into the heavily fortified panic room hidden behind the master closet.