You need to apologize to my mommy. The grand hall of the Long Island estate went dead silent as a three-year-old girl planted her tiny hands on her hips and stared straight up at the one man no one in that house ever dared to defy. Aleandro Moretti could freeze the entire New York underworld with a single look.

The iron gates surrounding the twenty-acre Moretti estate were reinforced with heavy security protocols, but the world Aleandro inhabited was never truly peaceful.

At 2:00 AM, heavy rain began to fall across the Long Island sound, drumming relentlessly against the master suite windows.

Inside the bedroom, Elena tossed and turned, unable to sleep. The revelation of her father’s true past echoed through her mind, mixing with the surreal reality of sleeping in a billionaire’s guest wing. Beside her, Mia was fast asleep, clutching her stuffed bunny.

Suddenly, the soft glow of the nightlight flickered and went out.

The silent alarm system inside the room beeped twice—a low, rhythmic pulse that signaled a perimeter breach on the eastern lawn.

Elena bolted upright in bed, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs. Before she could react, the door to the suite opened silently.

A tall shadow stepped inside.

"Elena, stay quiet," Aleandro’s voice cut through the darkness.

He was dressed in dark tactical gear, a heavy black hand-gun held firmly in his right hand. The soft moonlight from the terrace illuminated the sharp, lethal line of his jaw.

"Aleandro?" Elena gasped, wrapping her arms around Mia as the toddler began to stir. "What's happening?"

"The Donati syndicate," Aleandro said, stepping closer to the bed, shielding them with his body. "They have an insider in the local port authority. They found out four hours ago that Julian Rossi’s daughter was living inside my gates."

Elena’s blood ran cold. "They know about me?"

"They know Julian left behind a secondary key—an encrypted flash drive hidden inside his personal estate documents that can dismantle the Donati’s illegal banking network," Aleandro explained quickly, his eyes scanning the dark balcony outside. "They think you have it. They sent a strike team to take you before I could secure the evidence."

Outside the window, a loud explosion rocked the lower gardens, followed by the muffled sound of heavy gunfire echo-ing across the estate.

Mia woke up with a sharp cry. "Mommy! Noise!"

"I'm here, baby, I'm here!" Elena sobbed, holding Mia tightly against her chest.

Aleandro didn't hesitate. He reached down, scooped Mia up with his left arm, and grabbed Elena’s wrist with his right, pulling her out of bed.

"Follow me," he ordered firmly. "The panic room is beneath the library."

They hurried down the dark, carpeted service corridor as the sound of breaking glass echoed from the main foyer below. Aleandro’s men were engaging the intruders, the sharp pops of tactical rifles rattling through the house.

As they reached the heavy oak doors of the library, a masked intruder clad in black combat gear burst from the adjacent hallway, raising an automatic shotgun.

"Drop the girl, Moretti!" the mercenary yelled.

Before the shooter could squeeze the trigger, Aleandro moved with terrifying speed.

He fired two round bursts from his hand-gun without breaking stride. The intruder collapsed back against the wall with a heavy thud, his weapon clattering across the hardwood floor.

Elena screamed, pulling Mia’s face into her shoulder so the little girl wouldn't see the blood.

Aleandro pressed a hidden button disguised as a bronze bookend on the library shelf. The wall swung open silently, revealing a massive, steel-reinforced bunker equipped with glowing security monitors and medical supplies.

"Get inside," Aleandro commanded, shoving Elena and Mia into the brightly lit safe room.

"Aleandro, come inside with us!" Elena cried out, reaching for his sleeve. "Lock the steel doors!"

Aleandro stood in the threshold, his dark eyes glowing with a lethal rage as he locked his gaze onto hers.

"My men are dying out there to protect my home, Elena," he said, his voice quiet, steady, and undeniably heroic. "I don't hide in bunkers while my brothers fight. Stay here. The door is coded to your handprint now."

He reached out, his hand gently resting against the side of her face for one brief, intense second.