The air in the library was heavy, smelling of old leather, fine bourbon, and the quiet despair of a man who had long since surrendered to his own cage.

Three days passed in the bunker. Sebastian's progress was exponential. With the fascia unlocked, his nerves were regenerating at a speed that defied medical science. He could now stand for a full minute using custom titanium leg braces.

But the real world came crashing down when Claire’s phone rang. It was the hospital.

"Miss Bennett? We have a situation," the head nurse said, her voice trembling. "Two men dressed as doctors just tried to take Leo. Your security detail... there was a shootout in the hallway. The men are dead, but one of your guards is critically wounded."

Claire dropped the phone. The blood drained from her face.

Sebastian saw her expression and immediately wheeled over. "What happened?"

"They went after Leo," Claire choked out, panic suffocating her. "The Morettis tried to take my son."

Sebastian’s face contorted into something demonic. He looked at Gabriel. "Get the cars. Call every soldier we have. We're going on the offensive."

"Sebastian, no!" Claire grabbed his shoulders. "You can't start a war in a hospital!"

"They broke the rules, Claire," Sebastian snarled, his eyes dark with lethal intent. "They touched my family. They touched your family. I am going to paint the streets of Chicago with Marco Moretti’s blood."