The night I brought my pregnant mistress into our Manhattan mansion, I expected my wife to scream. I had prepared for tears, broken glass, threats, maybe even a scene dramatic enough for me to tell everyone Eleanor had finally become unstable. I had warned security not to interfere unless she tried to hurt someone. I had poured myself whiskey before walking into the drawing room because I wanted to look relaxed when I broke her heart.

I looked at the heavily armed mercenaries tracking mud and snow into my beautiful, pristine home.

I did not build a ruthless, multi-million dollar empire by surrendering to cheap Brooklyn street thugs.

I slowly raised my hands, secretly pressing the hidden panic button perfectly concealed beneath the lapel of my bespoke suit.

The mansion's advanced tactical lockdown protocols instantly engaged with a mechanical roar.

Thick, bulletproof steel shutters slammed down aggressively over all the windows and doors with a deafening crash.

The main lights cut out completely, plunging the expansive foyer into absolute, terrifying darkness.

My personal security detail, wearing advanced night-vision goggles, opened fire relentlessly from the upper mezzanine balcony.

I tackled Celeste violently to the cold marble floor as a hail of bullets destroyed the expensive artwork directly above us.

"Crawl to the kitchen right now if you want to live!" I yelled over the deafening, chaotic gunfire.

We scrambled desperately through the darkness until we reached the reinforced, steel-plated pantry door.

I shoved her roughly inside the small room and locked the heavy deadbolt behind us.

My encrypted mobile phone buzzed sharply in my pocket with an incoming, highly secure call.

I answered it, immediately recognizing Eleanor's calm, measured breathing on the other end of the line.

"You are rapidly losing your beautiful home, Lucian," her steady voice echoed softly through the small speaker.

"I am losing absolutely everything because of my own stupid, arrogant pride," I admitted quietly in the dark.

"I can stop Victor from taking over your territory and destroying your life."

"But you have to legally sign full, unadulterated ownership of Moretti Holdings over to our unborn child."

Before I could even agree to her brilliant, punishing demand, a loud, violent crash echoed through the phone line.

I heard Eleanor scream in absolute, heart-stopping terror as glass shattered around her.

At my son’s 10th birthday party, I found his new bike thrown behind the...

The moment I saw my six-year-old daughter standing in my kitchen doorway...

My mother refused to feed my 8-year-old daughter at Christmas. “She made...

Then, a strange man's sinister voice whispered coldly into the receiver.

"We finally found your clever little wife, Mr. Rossi."

Chapter 4 - The Escape