90 "**“STOP WAVING YOUR HANDS! YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME!”

The celebration at the Hudson estate was short-lived.

Within twenty-four hours of our courtroom victory, the sky over New York opened into a ferocious autumn storm. Gales howled through the sprawling grounds, violently rattling the reinforced panoramic windows of the mansion.

It was near midnight. Isabella was asleep in her second-floor suite, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days.

I sat in the master bedroom, brushing my hair in front of the vanity mirror, when Luca entered. He looked troubled, his phone still pressed to his ear.

"Understood. Double the guard on the river dock," Luca commanded before ending the call. He tossed the phone onto the bed and ran a hand over his face.

"What is it?" I asked, setting the brush down and turning toward him.

"Sterling disappeared from his penthouse three hours ago," Luca said quietly. "His bank accounts were liquidated through offshore dummy corporations in Cyprus. He's abandoned his legitimate holdings. When an enemy has nothing left to lose, Claire... that is when they become lethal."

"We're safe here, right?" I asked, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach. "You have thirty men on the grounds."

Luca didn't answer immediately. He walked over to the gun rack concealed behind the wood paneling of the walk-in closet, retrieving two Glock 19s. He checked the magazines, racked the slides, and handed one to me.

"Take this. Keep it with you," he said, looking deeply into my eyes. "Never assume you are safe, Claire. Not in this life."

Suddenly, the lights flickered twice.

Then, with an ominous hum, the entire estate plunged into pitch-black darkness.

The backup generators didn't kick on. The security consoles on the wall beeped once, an error tone indicating an internal manual bypass, and then went completely dead.

"The power grid was severed from the main breaker," Luca whispered, his tone transforming into pure lethal instinct. "And the backup was sabotaged from the inside."

A cold dread seized my heart. "A traitor?"

"Marco," Luca said through his teeth, the pain in his voice quickly buried beneath ice-cold rage. "Only Marco had the bypass codes for the secondary generator."

*Crack! Crack! Crack!*

Muffled gunfire erupted from the lower floor of the mansion, accompanied by the shattering of heavy glass. The security detail was being systematically engaged.

"Isabella!" I gasped, bolting toward the door.

Luca grabbed my wrist, pulling me into the shadows of the hallway. "Stay low! Move to her room now!"

We moved like ghosts through the pitch-black corridor, illuminated only by the intermittent flashes of lightning tearing through the skylights above. The smell of cordite and burning electrical wires drifted up the grand staircase.

We reached Isabella’s room. I shoved the heavy door open.

The room was dark. The curtains were whipping wildly in the wind blowing through a shattered balcony door.

"Isabella!" I cried out, forgetting for a split second that she couldn't hear me.

Lightning flashed.

In the sudden white glare, I saw Isabella huddled beneath her mahogany desk, clutching her knees, her eyes wide with terror as she felt the percussive thuds of high-caliber rifles echoing through the floorboards.

I scrambled across the room, sliding across the hardwood floor to shield her with my body.

*I'm here! Mama is here!* I signed frantically against her chest, feeling her little heart hammering like a trapped bird.

Luca stood at the doorway, weapon raised, covering the hall.

Through the dark corridor, slow, mocking footsteps echoed against the marble tiles.

"Luca," a voice called out—a voice we had trusted for five years.

Marco stepped into the dim hallway light, a suppressed pistol in his hand, flanked by four masked mercenaries wearing night-vision goggles. Behind them stood Julian Sterling, soaking wet, his eyes crazed with the venom of absolute ruin.

"You should have stayed in the shadows, boss," Marco said coldly. "Sterling offered twenty million for the logistics keys and the girl. That kind of money buys a lot of loyalty."

Luca stepped out into the open doorway, blocking their path to Isabella’s room with his massive frame, completely unbothered by the five barrels aimed at his chest.

"You sold your honor for paper, Marco," Luca said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "And you forgot the first rule of the Moretti house."

"Oh? And what rule is that, Luca?" Sterling sneered, stepping out from behind Marco’s shoulder.

Luca tilted his head, his teeth flashing in the dark.