The maid dropped to her knees and begged me not to kill her three-year-old daughter after finding the child inside the one room no one in my estate was allowed to enter. But when I looked down at the little girl who had covered Chicago’s most feared man with a blanket, I realized she had already done something no gun, threat, or prayer had managed in three years.

The week leading up to Lily’s surgery passed in a blur of intense preparation.

At the estate, everything had transformed. The air conditioning on the third floor was raised to a comfortable seventy-two degrees. The thick dust covers in the grand dining room were removed, exposing rich mahogany and gold leaf that hadn't seen the light of day in years.

Allie moved into the executive administrative office adjacent to mine. She was exceptionally smart, sharp with logistics, and managed my non-syndicate business holdings with a precision that amazed even my corporate lawyers. But more than that, her presence brought an undeniable warmth into a house that had felt like a mausoleum for three long years.

Yet, in my world, happiness is a target drawn on your back.

It was Wednesday night—two days before Lily’s scheduled surgery. I was sitting at my desk reviewing shipping manifests when Marco stepped into the office, his expression dark and grim. He closed the door behind him and engaged the electronic privacy lock.

“We’ve got a leak,” Marco said in a low voice.

I set my pen down. “Where?”

“The Donati crew,” Marco replied, stepping closer to the desk. “Joey Donati didn't take kindly to being humiliated at the warehouse last week. He’s been digging into your personal life. He found out about the kid.”

My blood ran instantly cold. The temperature in the room seemed to drop back to sixty-one degrees in a split second.

“What does he know?” I asked, my voice dangerously calm.

“He knows you hired a high-profile pediatric surgeon. He knows about the surgery scheduled at Children’s Memorial on Friday,” Marco said, his jaw clenching. “Word on the street is Joey’s planning to hit the hospital transport. He thinks if he takes the girl, he can force you to hand over port four and step down from the commission.”

I stood up slowly from my desk. The silence in the room was deafening.

In the underworld, families were supposed to be off-limits. It was an unwritten code that even the most vicious captains respected. But Joey Donati was desperate, arrogant, and foolish enough to think he could play hardball with a man who had nothing left to lose.

He didn't know that by targeting Lily, he had given me something worth fighting for again.

“Where is Joey right now?” I asked.

“He’s hiding out at his uncle’s estate in River Forest,” Marco said. “Guarded by twenty men. He’s locked down tight until Friday.”

“He thinks he’s waiting for Friday,” I said, pulling a drawer open on my desk and taking out a custom black steel sidearm. I checked the magazine with a methodical, practiced click. “We’re not waiting.”

“Murphy,” Marco warned, stepping forward. “If we hit the Donati estate directly, it’s an all-out war with the East Side. The Commission will get involved.”

I looked at Marco, my eyes burning with a dark, terrifying fire.

“Let them get involved,” I growled. “Joey threatened a three-year-old child under my protection. There will be no war, Marco. Because by sunrise, there won't be a Donati crew left to fight.”

I turned toward the door, but stopped as I saw Allie standing in the archway. She was holding a tray with my evening tea, her face pale, having overheard every single word.

She looked at the gun in my hand, her lips trembling. “Mr. Moretti... please. Don't go into danger because of us.”

I walked over to her, taking the heavy tray from her shaking hands and setting it on a nearby table. I looked down into her eyes, then past her toward the hallway where Lily’s soft laughter echoed from the television room.

“Miss Carter,” I said gently, placing my hand on her shoulder. “Three years ago, I failed to protect my sister because I didn't see the threat coming. I am not going to fail your daughter.”

Allie looked at me, tears streaming down her cheeks, but this time, it wasn't fear in her eyes. It was profound, unwavering trust.