At 1:17 in the morning, Dominic Vale received the only phone call in his life that made him forget he was supposed to be feared. He was standing at the head of a conference table thirty floors above downtown Chicago when his private phone vibrated. Nobody in the room reacted.

Dominic didn't flinch.

He stepped between Carter and the hospital bed, his massive frame completely shielding Hannah and his newborn son from view.

"How many men?" Dominic asked calmly.

"Eight. Maybe ten," Carter replied. "They’re claiming they’re looking for a woman who skipped out on a debt in Rockford."

Dominic’s jaw set into iron. He turned his head slightly, looking back at Hannah. Her face was paper-white, her eyes wide with fresh terror.

"They found me," she whispered.

"No," Dominic said softly. "They made a mistake."

He reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulled out a encrypted satellite phone, and dialed a three-digit code.

"Marcus," Dominic said into the speaker. "Bring the armored convoy to the ambulance bay at Lakeshore Community. Full tactical detail. Sweep the parking structure. Anyone carrying unauthorized iron gets buried."

He hung up without waiting for a reply.

Dominic walked back to the bed. He bent down, his big hands gently lifting the swaddled baby from Hannah’s arms. Hannah gasped instinctively, reaching out, but Dominic looked into her eyes with an absolute, unwavering calm.

"I have spent eight months living in a house without a soul, Hannah," Dominic murmured, holding his son securely against his broad chest. "No one is taking my family from me again."

He handed the baby carefully to Carter, who took the tiny infant with surprising gentleness, holding him close to his heavy coat.

"Get them to the basement service elevator," Dominic ordered Carter. "My personal driver is waiting in the armored Maybach. You take them directly to the Lake Geneva compound."

"The compound?" Carter blinked. "Dom, the Lake Geneva estate hasn't been active in two years."

"Which is why no one knows it exists," Dominic replied coldly. "Set the perimeter defense to Level Four. No one enters without my personal biometric authorization."

"What about you?" Hannah cried out, trying to sit up in the bed, her body still weak from labor. "Dominic, don't leave us!"

Dominic stepped to the edge of the bed. He reached out, his big hand gently cupping the back of her head, pulling her face close to his. He pressed a long, deep kiss against her forehead, smelling the faint scent of rain and sweat that he had missed for eight agonizing months.

"I have a leak to clean up," Dominic whispered against her skin. "I will be at Lake Geneva before sunrise."

Ten minutes later, the rain was pouring harder over downtown Chicago.

In the dark basement parking bay of the hospital, three black SUVs belonging to the Milwaukee faction were parked near the exit ramp. Four men in thick coats stood near the hood of the lead vehicle, smoking cigarettes, watching the service doors.

The heavy steel door swung open.

A single man stepped out into the damp, cold air.

Dominic Vale walked slowly through the shadows, his hands tucked loosely into his coat pockets. He wore no body armor. He held no visible weapon. He walked with the effortless, terrifying confidence of a predator entering his own hunting ground.

The four men froze, dropping their cigarettes, their hands instinctively reaching beneath their coats.

"Dominic Vale," the lead hitman sneered, stepping forward. "You're a long way from the North Side, boss."

Dominic stopped ten feet away. The rain streaked down his face, hitting his dark eyes that looked entirely devoid of human feeling.

"You brought weapons into a maternity ward," Dominic said. His voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet it cut through the sound of the pouring rain like thunder.

"We have business with the girl—"

Dominic didn't let him finish.

His hand moved with blinding speed. A silenced semi-automatic pistol appeared in his grip.

Pfft. Pfft.

Two shots echoed through the quiet garage. The lead hitman and the man standing beside him dropped instantly onto the concrete, blood pooling beneath them in the rainwater.

The remaining two men gasped, desperately scrambling to pull their weapons, but Dominic walked forward with terrifying precision, firing two more rounds without breaking stride.

Pfft. Pfft.

Silence returned to the garage, broken only by the steady drip of water from the ceiling and the distant hum of the Maybach engine pulling away from the upper ramp, carrying his wife and son to safety.

Dominic stood over the fallen men, his smoking gun held at his side. He pulled out his phone and dialed Carter.

"The garage is clear," Dominic said coldly. "Tell the clean-up crew to come with the heavy bags. And Carter..."