after his baby daughter mysteriously began sleeping peacefully for the first time since her mother died, a grieving mafia boss secretly installed a camera in her nursery to discover what was happening every night.

The rain was relentless over the Boston harbor. Cold Atlantic water hammered against the metal roof of Pier 14, where three black Lincoln Navigators were parked in a defensive line.

Lucian stood in the center of the drafty warehouse, wearing a long charcoal coat, his hands resting casually in his pockets. Behind him stood Gideon and six armed enforcers.

Across from them stood Marco Valenti—a greasy, ambitious underboss with a gold tooth and a reputation for extreme, messy violence. Valenti had four men with him, all holding submachine guns under their heavy raincoats.

"You look tired, Lucian," Valenti sneered, lighting a thick cigar. "Word on the street is you don't sleep much these days. Spending all your time crying over an empty crib in that big house of yours."

The temperature in the warehouse seemed to drop ten degrees.

Gideon shifted his weight, his hand moving toward his shoulder holster, but Lucian raised a single finger, stopping his men instantly.

Lucian stepped forward, taking three calm, measured steps toward Valenti. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't draw a gun. His posture was so absolute, so devoid of fear, that Valenti’s men instinctively stepped back.

"You brought me out in the rain to talk about my house, Marco?" Lucian asked, his voice a low, smooth purr.

Valenti swallowed hard, his arrogant smirk wavering slightly under Lucian’s terrifying gaze. "I brought you here to re-negotiate the harbor tax. The Valenti family wants forty percent of the shipping lines. You're weak, Vance. Your wife is dead, your family is broken, and everyone knows you don't have the stomach for a war anymore."

Lucian stopped six inches from Valenti’s face. He reached out, took the lit cigar straight from Valenti’s mouth, and crushed it slowly between his gloved thumb and forefinger.

Valenti flinched, his heart hammering against his ribs.

"My wife is dead," Lucian whispered, leaning close enough for Valenti to smell the rain and expensive leather on him. "Which means I have nothing left to lose, Marco. A man with everything to lose is careful. A man with nothing to lose will burn this entire city to the ground just to keep his hands warm."

He looked Valenti dead in the eye.

"You take your thirty percent cut from the northern docks, and you stay out of my harbor," Lucian commanded. "If I see your face south of the river again, I won't kill you. I’ll hand you over to Gideon, and you’ll spend three weeks wishing you had never been born."

Valenti’s confidence completely shattered. He backed away, sweating despite the freezing cold rain, gesturing frantically to his men. "We're leaving! Let's go!"

As the Valenti vehicles sped away into the rain, Gideon stepped up beside Lucian.

"That was a dangerous bluff, Lucian," Gideon muttered, adjusting his collar. "Valenti has three times our numbers in the city right now."

Lucian looked out over the dark water of the harbor, watching the raindrops create thousands of ripples on the surface.

"It wasn't a bluff, Gideon," Lucian said quietly. "I used to think I had nothing left to lose. But I was wrong."

He turned toward his car, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the live security camera feed from the nursery. On the screen, Maya was sitting on the plush rug, carefully showing baby Sophia a picture book with brightly colored animals while Maria folded blankets in the corner.