for three years, mafia boss alessio marchetti had raised his silent triplets believing their mother was dead and buried. then, during an ordinary dinner, a young waitress named sienna approached their table

By 4:00 AM, a torrential thunderstorm had rolled over Blackwood Manor, sheets of rain battering against the stained-glass windows of the main hall.

Inside the estate's underground tactical war room, twelve heavily armed Marchetti soldiers stood around a digital map table projecting the blueprints of St. Jude’s Psychiatric Institute in downtown Dallas.

Rocco adjusted his tactical vest, checking the magazine of his submachine gun. "St. Jude’s is a fortress, Alessio. It’s got private security, biometric doors, and three floors of underground laboratories. If Kane is running Project Genesis out of the sub-levels, he’s got a small army down there."

"I don't care if he has the Roman Legion down there," Alessio replied coldly, sliding a pair of custom silver-framed handguns into his shoulder holsters. "We breach the basement, secure the neutralizer, and burn the facility to the ground."

"Alessio," Sienna’s voice echoed from the top of the metal staircase.

The soldiers immediately straightened up, bowing their heads respectfully as Sienna descended the stairs. She was dressed in dark jeans and a heavy wool sweater Alessio had provided, her hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"You can't just storm the building," Sienna said, stepping up to the map table. "If Kane sees you coming on security cameras, he'll trigger the self-destruct or destroy the stabilizing serum. He’s paranoid."

"She’s right, boss," Rocco admitted reluctantly. "Kane was always a coward. The second he hears gunfire, he’ll dump the research."

"I know how to get in," Sienna said quietly.

Alessio spun on her, his eyes blazing. "Absolutely not. You are staying in the panic room with the boys."

"Listen to me!" Sienna snapped, a flash of Elena’s old fiery spirit breaking through her soft exterior. "I spent six months in that facility! I don't remember everything, but my body remembers the layout! I know the service entrance near the laundry chutes. I know the keypad rhythm. If I go in disguised as a patient transfer, I can slip into the research lab from the inside while your team cuts the main power."

Alessio stepped up to her, his large frame looming over her, his hands gripping her waist. "I just got you back, Elena. I am not using you as bait."

"My name is Sienna right now, Alessio," she said, placing her palm against his thumping heart. "And if I don't get that serum, I’ll be dead in six days anyway. Let me fight for my life. Let me fight for our boys."

Alessio stared down into her eyes, his chest heaving as a silent, agonizing war raged inside him.

Before he could answer, a loud alarm chimed on the war room console.

PERIMETER BREACH — SECTOR 4.

Rocco whipped his gun up. "What the hell? Security cameras in the east courtyard just went dark!"

"It’s not an outside attack," Alessio growled, his eyes darting to the tactical feed. "Someone disabled the feed from inside the security room."

Suddenly, the heavy iron door at the back of the war room swung open.

Stephens, one of Alessio’s senior guards who had been with the family for ten years, stepped into the room holding a suppressed pistol—pointed directly at Sienna’s head.

"Nobody move!" Stephens barked, his face slick with sweat. "Hands where I can see them!"

Alessio didn't flinch. He didn't even raise his hands. He simply turned his body slightly to shield Sienna with his broad torso. "Stephens. How much did Lucian Vanezzi pay you to turn traitor?"

"Five million and a clean passport," Stephens sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Vanezzi knew you’d find her eventually. He sent me to finish the job if you opened that grave. The girl comes with me to St. Jude’s, Don Marchetti, or I put a bullet through her brain right here."

"You made two mistakes, Stephens," Alessio said softly.

"Oh yeah? What’s that?"

"First, you assumed I care about my own life," Alessio whispered. "Second... you forgot who taught you how to shoot."

CRACK!

A deafening shot echoed through the enclosed war room.

Stephens didn't even have time to register the movement. Alessio had pulled his backup derringer from his sleeve and fired a high-caliber round straight through Stephens’ throat.

The traitor dropped his weapon, clutching his neck as he collapsed onto the concrete floor, dark blood pooling beneath him.