The first thing Elena Castillo remembered was the smell of lemon polish on her hands.

By evening, the tension inside the mansion had reached a boiling point.

Adrian had ordered a formal dinner in the grand dining room—a move Dante considered reckless, but Adrian insisted was necessary. If Vincent believed Adrian was still weak and bedridden, he would act cautiously. If Adrian showed strength, Vincent would become desperate. And desperate men made mistakes.

The mahogany table stretched thirty feet beneath a crystal chandelier.

At the head sat Adrian, dressed in a bespoke midnight-blue suit that concealed the bandage over his chest. To his right sat Vincent, his arm still nestled in the sling, sweat glistening on his temples despite the air conditioning. Across from Vincent sat Elena and Sophia.

Elena felt acutely out of place. Mrs. Bellini, the housekeeper, had insisted on bringing Elena an elegant dark-emerald dress from the estate’s guest reserves, along with a simple velvet dress for Sophia. Elena felt like an imposter sitting among heavy silver cutlery and hand-blown crystal.

Sophia, however, was having the time of her life.

"Look, Adrian!" Sophia beamed, pointing with her soup spoon. "The butter is shaped like a tiny lamb!"

Vincent set his wine glass down with a sharp clatter. "Adrian, is this truly necessary? Dining with the house staff? The council members are already asking questions about why the estate has been locked down for three days. Rumors are spreading on the docks."

Adrian didn't look at Vincent. He carefully cut a piece of roasted chicken on his plate. "The council works for me, Vincent. They know only what I choose to tell them. And as for who sits at my table—this child showed more loyalty to this house in three minutes than half the men drawing a paycheck from my payroll."

Vincent’s jaw twitched. "Loyalty? She’s five years old! She walked in blindly! Don't let your brush with death make you sentimental, cousin. It makes you look weak."

The room temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.

Dante, standing by the side buffet, rested his palm on his holster.

Adrian slowly put his knife and fork down. He leaned back in his high-backed chair and turned his dark, predatory gaze squarely onto Vincent.

"Is that what you think I am, Vincent?" Adrian’s voice was dangerously smooth. "Weak?"

"I think you were careless," Vincent countered, his voice rising, trying to mask his panic with bravado. "Someone got poison into your private decanter. That means your inner circle is compromised. I offered to take over security, to audit the staff, to clear out the liabilities—" He glared across the table at Elena. "—and instead, you play house with a maid."

Sophia stopped eating. She looked at Vincent, her small brow furrowing. "You have a mean voice," she said clearly.

Vincent glared at the little girl. "Shut your mouth, you little—"

A deafening *CRACK* echoed through the dining room.

Adrian had slammed his heavy crystal tumbler onto the mahogany table so hard the base shattered, amber liquid pooling across the polished wood.

In the same breath, Titan, who had been lying silently beneath Sophia’s chair, exploded forward. The dog placed his front paws directly onto the table, knocking silver dishes aside, his massive head thrusting within six inches of Vincent’s throat. A blood-curdling snarl tore from the animal’s chest, teeth snapping with bone-crushing power.

Vincent shrieked, falling backward out of his chair, tumbling onto the hard marble floor as his dinner plate crashed over his chest.

"Titan, stay!" Sophia piped up immediately.

The dog stopped instantly, front paws still on the edge of the mahogany table, eyes locked on Vincent, a low, mechanical growl rumbling in his throat.

Adrian stood up slowly. He rounded the table, stepping over the spilled wine and broken china, until he stood looking down at his cousin sprawling on the floor like an upturned beetle.

"Talk to that child like that again," Adrian whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal certainty, "and I won't tell the dog to stop."

Vincent swallowed hard, his face pale and slick with terror. "Adrian... please. We’re blood."

"Blood is cheap," Adrian said coldly. "Dante, take his phone. Take his keycards. Confine him to the east guest pavilion. Two guards outside his door at all times."

"You can't do this!" Vincent shouted as Dante hauled him to his feet by the collar of his suit. "The council won't accept this! You have no proof!"

"I have your ledger, Vincent," Adrian said calmly. "My tech team decrypted your private harbor server twenty minutes ago. I know about the New York syndicate. I know about the warehouse in Chelsea. And I know exactly how much you paid the chemist for the organophosphate."

Vincent’s eyes widened in horror. All the fight drained out of him. He looked like a man who had just realized the trapdoor had already sprung beneath his feet.

Dante dragged him out of the room, the double doors slamming shut behind them.

Silence descended upon the dining room.

Elena sat frozen, her heart thumping against her ribs. She looked at Adrian, expecting the cold fury to consume him. But when Adrian turned back to the table, his eyes were weary. He looked down at Sophia, who was calmly patting Titan’s flank, coaxing the giant dog back down from the table.

"You're a very good boy, Titan," Sophia crooned. "You scared the mean man away."

Adrian let out a long, slow breath. He walked back to his chair, looking across at Elena.

"I’m sorry you had to see that," Adrian said, the hardness leaving his voice completely.

Elena looked down at her hands, then met his gaze with steady, quiet courage. "I’ve seen men like him my whole life, Mr. Moretti. Bullies who smile while they steal the bread off your table. You don't have to apologize for protecting us."

Adrian looked at her—really looked at her. He saw the fierce, unyielding dignity of a mother who had fought the world with empty pockets and emerged unbroken. For the first time in his life, Adrian Moretti felt a deep, profound respect for someone who owned nothing.

"Call me Adrian," he said softly.

Elena swallowed, a faint, tentative smile gracing her lips. "Adrian."

Before anyone could say another word, the chandelier above them flickered once.

Twice.