The sound was coming from the old carriage house behind the main stables, a place the estate staff referred to simply as The Vault.

Inside cell block B, Nero was going berserk.

Three animal control officers stood outside his reinforced holding pen, holding long catch-poles tipped with heavy steel cables. Inside the pen, Nero was a hurricane of muscle and fury. He had already chewed through the heavy rubber matting on the floor, and his deep, echoing roars rattled the fluorescent light fixtures overhead.

"Just put a dart in him!" one officer yelled over the din.

"We can't!" the supervisor shouted back. "Vance’s orders were explicit—make it look like an accident during transport, or put him down quietly before the transfer. If we use too much tranquilizer, his heart gives out. If we don't use enough, he takes our heads off!"

Suddenly, the heavy steel security door at the end of the cell block didn't just open—it exploded inward with a deafening crash.

The reinforced hinges tore out of the concrete wall as a heavy black SUV rammed straight through the facility entrance, its headlights cutting blinding white paths through the dust and fluorescent haze.

Before the officers could draw their weapons, the side doors of the SUV flew open.

Marcus and four armed men spilled out, their tactical gear flashing in the dim light. But it wasn't the armed men that made the officers drop their catch-poles in sheer terror.

It was Dante Thorne walking down the center aisle, his face a mask of absolute, unyielding ice.

"Step away from the cage," Dante said. It wasn't a request.

"Sir, you can't be in here! This is a restricted—" the supervisor started, reaching for his holster.

Marcus’s rifle butt connected with the supervisor's shoulder with a sickening crunch, sending him crashing into the metal lockers. The other two officers raised their hands instantly, dropping their weapons to the concrete floor.

Dante walked right up to Nero’s pen.

Inside, the huge Cane Corso had stopped roaring. The moment Dante’s scent hit the air, Nero’s massive body went rigid. He turned slowly toward the gate, his tail giving one tentative, heavy thud against the concrete wall.

"Hey, boy," Dante said softly, stepping past the trembling officers. He didn't use a key; he pulled a heavy emergency override remote from his jacket and punched in the master code.

The heavy steel door slid open with a mechanical hiss.

Nero didn't hesitate. He shot out of the cell like a cannonball, lunging directly toward Dante—not to attack, but wrapping his massive 140-pound frame around Dante’s legs, whining like a lost puppy.