The wooden train had left a deep, purple bruise right across Ruby’s collarbone, a dull throb that beat in time with her racing pulse. In the heavy stillness of the Romano foyer, every armed guard held his breath. Vincent Romano’s hand still hovered an inch from where he had caught her, his dark eyes locked onto her face with a mixture of disbelief and clinical assessment.

Morning broke over Chicago with a freezing rain that beat against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Romano mansion.

Ruby stood in the massive, professional-grade kitchen, stirring a pot of oatmeal while trying to ignore the sharp pain in her arm. Mrs. Higgins, the elderly head housekeeper whose stern face usually hid a mountain of worries, was whispering frantically into a landline phone by the pantry.

"They're gathering at the outer gates again," Mrs. Higgins muttered, hanging up the phone with a sharp click and turning to Ruby. "The Outfit’s council. Ever since the port seizure last week, Salvatore Vance has been looking for any weakness to exploit against Mr. Romano."

Ruby paused, the spoon hovering over the pot. "Weakness?"

"Vincent protects his family with his life, but Leo... Leo is his only blind spot," Mrs. Higgins said, her voice trembling slightly. "The moment word gets out that a new nanny is inside—that someone has managed to get close to the boy—the vultures will start circling. They'll use you to get to Vincent, Ruby. You need to be careful."

Before Ruby could process the warning, heavy footsteps echoed down the stone-tiled hallway.

Vincent walked into the kitchen, looking immaculate in a tailored charcoal suit, though the dark circles under his eyes betrayed a sleepless night. He didn't look at Mrs. Higgins; his eyes locked instantly onto Ruby.

"Pack a bag for Leo," Vincent ordered, his voice cold and flat. "We are moving to the secure lakehouse in Wisconsin for the next week."

"Moving?" Ruby blinked, dropping the spoon into the sink. "Mr. Romano, Leo’s routine is fragile. Moving him now will throw him into a complete tailspin—"

"I am not asking for your psychological assessment, Ruby," Vincent cut her off, stepping directly into her space. The sheer authority radiating from him was staggering. "Last night, an operative from the Vance syndicate scaled the perimeter wall. They are hunting for leverage. My son stays with me, and you stay with my son. Do you understand?"

Ruby looked up at him, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and sudden, fierce defiance. She had spent her entire life running from landlords, debt collectors, and hospitals threatening to pull the plug on her father. She was done running.

"If I go, I go on my terms," Ruby said clearly, her voice echoing in the vast kitchen. "I am Leo’s caretaker, not a hostage. If we move, I need access to his sensory toys, his comfort blanket, and my father's medical updates."

Silence descended on the kitchen. Mrs. Higgins stopped breathing, waiting for Vincent to explode, to fire her, or worse.