Marco Bellini’s voice was almost lost beneath the thunder rolling over Chicago.

By 3:00 AM, the storm outside had settled into a steady, rhythmic rain. Upstairs in the master suite, Federica couldn't sleep.

She had showered away the dirt and blood of the tunnels, dressing in a soft grey sweater and sweatpants provided by Maria. Her physical wounds throbbed, but her mind was racing. She sat at Gabriele’s massive oak desk, staring at the high-resolution security monitors displaying the estate corridors.

The door opened quietly, and Gabriele walked in. He had removed his suit jacket and tie, rolling his white dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. He looked tired, the sharp lines of his face carved deeper by stress, yet he radiated an undeniable, magnetic authority.

"He's asleep," Federica said softly, pointing toward the open door of the nursery where Leo lay peacefully in his crib.

Gabriele walked over to the desk, standing beside her chair. He looked down at her bandaged hands, then at the monitor showing the locked boardroom downstairs.

"They are panicking," Gabriele said. "Enzo is furious. Julian is terrified. Vincent is quiet."

"Quiet is usually more dangerous than furious," Federica noted, turning her head to look at him.

Gabriele looked down into her eyes. Up close, he noticed the tiny flecks of gold in her brown irises, the soft curve of her lips, and the fierce intelligence that glowed behind her modest demeanor. For two years, he had watched her from afar, admiring her precision and quiet strength. Seeing her here, in his private space, holding his family together, felt overwhelming.

"You should be resting, Federica," he murmured, his tone softening in a way that would have shocked his capos. "You've been through a nightmare."

"I can't rest while the person who tried to kill that baby is sitting downstairs," she replied firmly. She pulled Gabriele’s personal laptop toward her. "Give me your master administrative access."

Gabriele raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to do?"

"If you search their rooms with guns, they will hide," Federica explained, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "If you threaten them, they will lie. But if you touch their money, they will bleed."

Gabriele smiled—a genuine, captivating curve of his lips that made Federica’s pulse jump. He leaned down, placing one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the desk, enveloping her in his scent of cedarwood, rain, and expensive tobacco. He typed in his 32-character master password.

"The system is yours," he whispered near her ear.

Federica took a breath to steady her nerves, forcing her focus back to the screen. "The traitor needed money to pay Sterling’s mercenaries. A operation like tonight’s ambush costs at least two million dollars in untraceable crypto or offshore cash. No one keeps that much liquid capital under a mattress."

"They would route it through our shell corporations," Gabriele realized.

"Exactly," Federica said, her eyes flashing with professional thrill. "I am going to plant a fake phantom ledger in the main system right now. It will look like an emergency security audit initiated by your London accounts, freezing all offshore accounts linked to the master keys in thirty minutes."

Gabriele’s eyes widened slightly. "If the traitor sees their hidden funds are about to be locked down permanently..."

"...They will panic and attempt an emergency withdrawal to a private wallet before the timer hits zero," Federica finished. "And the moment they execute that withdrawal, my algorithm will trace the IP address directly to the device in their pocket."

Gabriele looked at her with pure, unadulterated admiration. He reached out, his large, warm fingers gently touching her chin, turning her face toward his.

"You are incredible, Federica Ferrari," he said softly, his deep voice vibrating through her chest.

Federica’s breath hitched. She stared into his dark, intensity-filled eyes, feeling a wave of heat wash over her skin. "I... I just like solving puzzles, Mr.—Gabriele."

"You didn't just solve a puzzle," he murmured, his thumb lightly stroking her cheekbone, careful to avoid her bruise. "You saved my life's purpose. You saved Leo."

Before she could answer, a high-pitched ping echoed from the laptop screen.

Federica looked back at the monitor. The digital honeypot had been triggered.

"Someone just accessed the offshore shell routing system," Federica whispered, pointing at the flashing red line of code. "They are attempting a three-million-dollar transfer right now."

Gabriele’s face instantly returned to ice. "Where is the signal coming from?"