Dante Vance did not flinch, nor did he jolt awake the way ordinary men do. Decades of surviving turf wars, assassination attempts, and betrayal had forged his reflexes into something lethal and precise. One second his eyes were closed; the next, they snapped open—dark, cold, and entirely lucid.

Wait.

Little brother?

My brain stalled. I looked from the silver-haired syndicate boss sitting in my old armchair to Dante standing beside me, his rifle still leveled at the target.

“Dante... what is he talking about?” I whispered, my voice trembling violently as the room spun. “Who is this man?”

Dante didn't lower his weapon. His face was a mask of cold, calcified rage. “His name is Julian Vance. My older brother. The man who fumed his own death five years ago to steal our family’s empire from the inside out.”

Julian chuckled softly, gently patting Ellie’s back as the baby yawned and rested her sleepy head against his tactical vest. Remarkably, despite the heavy artillery and the tension thick enough to cut with a razor, Ellie wasn't crying at all. She looked completely at home.

“You always were too smart for your own good, Dante,” Julian sneered, leaning back in the sagging armchair. “You took the legitimate side of the family, played the respectable businessman, built your little restaurant empire. But you forgot one fundamental truth: blood always returns to the dark.”

“Let the child go, Julian,” Dante snarled, taking half a step forward. His finger tightened imperceptibly on the trigger. “This is between you and me. She has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, but she has everything to do with this,” Julian corrected, his eyes gleaming with mad satisfaction. He looked at me, a cruel, pitying smile curling his lips. “Tell me, Lena... did you really think your husband’s death was an accident? Did you think the union boss Marcus Vance acted alone?”

My blood ran instantly cold. Every sound in the room died.

“What... what do you mean?” I choked out, tears spilling hot down my cheeks.

“Your husband was about to whistle-blow on my drug-smuggling routes through the construction yards,” Julian said smoothly, as if discussing the weather. “Marcus was just my errand boy. But my dear brother Dante here... he knew about it all along.”

I whipped my head around to stare at Dante. The world shattered into a million jagged pieces.

“Dante... is that true?” I whispered, my voice breaking entirely. “You knew? You knew who killed my husband, and you brought me in anyway? You used me?!”

Dante’s jaw clenched so hard a vein throbbed violently at his temple. He didn't look away from Julian, but his voice cracked with a rare, raw agony.

“I didn't order the hit, Lena,” Dante said, his voice low and pleading for the first time. “When I found out what Julian had done, I hunted him across three continents. I couldn't protect your husband because I was too late. But I swore on my life I would destroy Julian and everyone connected to him. That’s why I brought you in. Not to use you... but to protect you from the crossfire when the war finally erupted.”

“A touching family reunion!” Julian laughed, raising his voice sharply. He nodded to the armed guard standing beside him with the silenced pistol. “Kill the mother. Let’s see how fast the great Dante Vance breaks when he watches the only woman he’s ever cared about bleed out on this filthy floor.”

The guard raised his weapon, his finger pressing against the trigger.