“Keep her.” Those were the two words I heard my mafia husband say about another woman on our fifth wedding anniversary,

The fortified estate in the hills above Nice was an impenetrable bastion. Built into the granite cliffs, protected by thirty-foot reinforced walls and guarded by sixty of Adrien's most loyal veterans brought in from New York, it was safer than Fort Knox.

For forty-eight hours, the world ceased to exist outside the master bedroom.

Doctor Bianchi had placed Aurelia in an incubator for only twelve hours before declaring her miraculously healthy despite her early arrival. She weighed five pounds, had lungs like a siren, and possessed her father’s piercing, dark gray eyes.

I sat propped up against the plush pillows of the king-sized bed, wearing a soft cashmere sweater, nursing Aurelia. Adrien sat on the edge of the mattress, his gaze never wandering from her face. He hadn't slept in two days, yet he looked more alive than I had ever seen him.

He reached out a single, scarred forefinger. Aurelia’s tiny hand instantly clamped around it with astonishing grip.

A soft, rare chuckle rumbled in Adrien’s chest. "She already has the Hudson grip. She’s going to rule the world."

"She’s going to be a botanist, or an artist, or an architect," I corrected gently, smiling as I brushed the downy hair on her forehead. "Anything she wants. Far away from guns, poisoned wine, and syndicates."

Adrien’s smile softened, though a lingering shadow flickered behind his eyes. "Yes. Far away from this life. I swear it."

A soft knock at the bedroom door broke our reverie. Marco stepped in, dressed in a fresh dark suit, carrying an encrypted satellite phone.

"Boss," Marco said quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to startle the baby. "The cleanup in Monaco is complete. The Corsicans and the Camorra have officially signed the non-aggression pact. They recognize your authority and agree to the boundaries we set."

"Good," Adrien replied, not looking up from Aurelia. "And Vanessa Cole?"

Marco hesitated. His silence made the air in the warm room instantly drop ten degrees.

"She slipped the net in Monte Carlo," Marco admitted reluctantly. "She boarded a private helicopter from the heliport before the authorities closed the airspace. We tracked the tail number to a private airstrip outside Genoa, but after that, the trail went cold."

My heart gave an uneasy thud. I looked down at Aurelia, pulling the blanket a little tighter around her tiny shoulders.

Adrien slowly withdrew his finger from our daughter’s grasp. When he stood up, the doting, gentle father was gone. The cold, calculating monarch had returned to his eyes.

"Vanessa knows Julian is dead," Adrien said calmly, his voice terrifying in its stillness. "She knows the syndicate bosses have turned their backs on her. She has no army. She has no resources left."

"Which makes her more dangerous than ever, Boss," Marco warned. "A cornered animal with nothing to lose will strike at anything."

"She won't get the chance," Adrien said. He walked over to the antique armoire in the corner of the room, pulling out a tailored black coat.

"Adrien," I called out, my heart clenching. "Where are you going?"

He stopped, turning back to look at me. The vulnerability in his expression was heart-wrenching. He walked back to the bed, dropping to one knee beside me so we were at eye level.

"Vanessa Cole survived the fire. She survived the cave. She survived the casino," Adrien whispered, his hand gently resting over mine and Aurelia’s. "She is a ghost that will haunt our daughter’s cradle until I put a bullet through her skull. I cannot leave that shadow hanging over Aurelia’s life."

"Let Marco go. Send your men," I pleaded, tears threatening to spill. "Don't leave us."

"My men didn't break her heart five years ago, Elena," Adrien answered honestly. "I did. This vendetta is personal. She wants you and Aurelia dead because she wants to strip everything I love from this earth. If I send soldiers, she will hide. But if she knows I am in Genoa, hunting her alone... she will come to me."

"You're using yourself as bait," I realized, horror dawning on me.

"I am the bait, and I am the executioner," he said softly. He leaned in, kissing my lips with a slow, devastating devotion that tasted of eternity. "I will be back before the sunrise tomorrow, Elena. And when I return, I will bring you the final peace I promised you."

He kissed Aurelia’s forehead, his lips lingering on her soft skin for a long moment, before standing up.

"Marco has twenty men stationed on this floor alone," Adrien instructed, looking toward the door. "The perimeter is locked down. Nobody enters. Nobody leaves."