The cold February wind felt like broken glass against my skin as I stood frozen on the frost-bitten lawn. The silver charm sat in Emma's tiny, steady palm—glinting under the pale winter sun like a drop of fresh blood.

Black smoke billowed into the pale sky, masking the morning sun in an oily shroud. Heavy armored vehicles bearing no insignia had smashed through the wrought-iron gates, and the crackle of relentless gunfire echoed across the manicured lawns.

"They're hitting the main house!" Luca slammed on the brakes, sliding the Suburban to a halt right beside the shattered fountain.

I didn't wait for the vehicle to stop completely. I threw open the door, raised my weapon, and put two rounds straight through the chest of a mercenary trying to plant an explosive charge near the front doors.

"Secure the perimeter! Take no prisoners!" I roared into my tactical radio, rallying the remaining loyal guards who were fighting back from behind the stone pillars.

As I fought my way through the smoking foyer, my heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Isabella. Sophia. Emma.

If anything happened to them, I would burn every city from here to the Atlantic down to ash.

I kicked open the heavy oak doors of the grand study. Inside, two mercenaries were holding Sophia at gunpoint while a third was hacking away at the floorboards near the fireplace, searching for the hidden vault where the original charters were kept.

"Let her go," I said quietly.

The mercenaries spun around, but they were half a second too slow. Two muffled pops from my Sig Sauer sent them crashing lifelessly to the Persian rug.

Sophia dropped to her knees, trembling violently. "Mr. Moretti... thank God... they came through the secret tunnels."