He Woke With a Gun in His Hand—Then the Mafia Boss Saw Who Was Sleeping on His Chest**

While Mrs. Daley’s arrest removed the threat inside the house, it sparked an all-out war on the streets outside.

Julian Vance—realizing his mole had been compromised and federal authorities were closing in on his illegal shipping network—went completely desperate. Over the next forty-eight hours, Vance launched aggressive strikes against Victor’s legitimate business assets across Coldwater.

Warehouses were firebombed, delivery trucks were hijacked, and two of Victor’s senior logistics managers were hospitalized in hit-and-run attacks.

The city was on knife-edge.

Inside the Hayes estate, the atmosphere was like a military war room. Map tables were set up in the grand dining hall, radio chatter echoed through the corridors, and armed men swept the perimeter every thirty minutes.

Through it all, Victor kept me by his side.

He no longer treated me like an employee or a guest. I sat beside him during strategic meetings, offering my perspective on local district layouts and staff logistics. His men—who had initially viewed me with suspicion—quickly realized that I was the only person who could calm Victor’s dangerous temper when tensions ran high.

On a rainy Thursday evening, Victor and I sat in his study reviewing shipping routes on a digital screen.

My phone rang.

I checked the screen. My heart stopped.

LIAM.

I quickly hit answer. "Liam?! Are you okay?! Where are you?!"

"Emily..." Liam’s voice came through the speaker, but it was weak, raspy, and choked with blood. "Emily... help me..."

"Liam!" I screamed, standing up so fast my chair knocked over backward! "Liam, what happened?!"

Victor was on his feet instantly, his eyes locked onto my face, his sidearm drawn in half a second.

A cold, unfamiliar voice took over the phone line.

"Hello, Emily," a smooth, sinister voice drawled through the speaker. "Or should I call you the future mistress of the Hayes estate?"

"Who is this?!" I sobbed, clutching the phone with both hands.

"Julian Vance," the man replied with a cruel laugh. "Your brother was very easy to track down. Your boyfriend’s security team was good, but my men were better. I have Liam sitting in a chair at the Old Grain Silo down on 4th Street."

"Don't hurt him!" I begged hysteria rising in my chest. "Please! He doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"He has everything to do with this," Vance sneered. "Tell Victor Hayes that if he wants to see your brother alive, he comes to the Old Grain Silo alone in one hour. No security team. No police. Just Victor."

CLICK.

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone onto the desk, my knees shaking so violently I nearly fell. Tears spilled down my cheeks in blinding hot streams.

"Victor... he has Liam," I gasped, looking at him in pure agony. "He’s going to kill him!"

Victor caught me in his arms, holding me firm and steady against his chest. His heart beat strong and slow beneath my hand—completely unbothered by the threat.

"He’s not going to kill him, Emily," Victor said softly, his voice carrying an absolute, terrifying authority. "Because Julian Vance just made the last mistake of his life."

He cupped my face in his hands, wiping away my tears with his thumbs.

"I promised you I would protect your family," Victor whispered, looking deeply into my eyes. "Now watch me keep that promise."