Lucien answered Ivy’s scream before the SUV reached the bridge.

Not physically.

Instinctively.

The whiskey glass shattered in his hand at exactly 12:14 a.m.

One second he stood alone inside the music room staring at rain against black windows.

The next—

something inside his chest tore open so violently he nearly dropped to one knee.

Matteo burst through the doorway immediately afterward holding a phone.

Face white.

“Lucien.”

Lucien looked up once.

That was enough.

Matteo stopped moving instantly.

Oh.

Oh no.

Because Lucien Moretti no longer looked controlled.

No polished calm.

No cold intelligence.

Only murder sitting openly behind his eyes now.

“She’s gone,” Matteo said carefully.

The room went silent.

Rain hammered the windows harder.

Lucien’s hand tightened slowly around broken glass until blood streamed down his wrist.

He didn’t notice.

“Who.”

One word.

Quiet.

Terrifying.

Matteo swallowed once.

“Our people lost visual near Forty-Seventh.” He held the phone tighter. “Russo’s vehicles were spotted heading east.”

The music room suddenly felt freezing.

Lucien stared at him silently.

Then softly:

“She screamed my name.”

Matteo’s stomach dropped instantly.

The sound of Lucien’s voice alone felt wrong.

Not emotional.

Empty.

Like the last human part of him had finally snapped.

“Lucien—”

The whiskey bottle exploded against the fireplace before Matteo finished the sentence.

Glass erupted violently across the room.

Lucien moved instantly afterward.

Fast.

Purposeful.

Terrifying.

He grabbed his coat from the piano bench and headed straight for the door.

Matteo followed immediately.

“Wait.” He caught Lucien’s arm hard enough to stop him for half a second. “You need a plan.”

Lucien looked down slowly at the hand gripping his sleeve.

Matteo released him immediately.

Good instinct.

“Move,” Lucien said quietly.

The softness made Matteo’s pulse spike.

Because he’d heard Lucien angry before.

Cold before.

Violent before.

But never like this.

Never stripped completely down to instinct.

“She could already be across state lines,” Matteo said quickly while following him through the hallway. “We need intel first—”

“No.”

Lucien descended the staircase without slowing.

Guards straightened instantly below.

The atmosphere inside the mansion shifted violently the second they saw his face.

Fear.

Real fear.

Lucien reached the foyer and finally looked toward his men.

“Find Russo.”

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

Then Lucien added quietly:

“And if anyone slows me down tonight, I bury them with him.”

The mansion exploded into motion.

—

The first body hit the floor nineteen minutes later.

Rain drenched the abandoned shipping warehouse near the river while headlights sliced sharply through darkness outside. Lucien stepped over shattered glass and grabbed the screaming man by the front of his jacket hard enough to lift him partially off the ground.

“WHERE.”

The roar echoed violently through the warehouse.

The terrified smuggler choked desperately beneath Lucien’s grip.

“I don’t know—”

Lucien slammed him into a steel support beam hard enough to bend metal.

Blood sprayed across concrete.

“Ivy Bennett,” Lucien said again.

Low.

Deadly calm now.

“Where.”

The man sobbed instantly.

“Queens—Jesus Christ—they moved her through Queens—”

Lucien released him so suddenly the smuggler collapsed gasping onto the floor.

Matteo stepped carefully through the warehouse doorway behind him.

Three more men already bled across concrete nearby.

Excellent.

Fantastic.

Lucien wiped blood from his mouth with the back of one hand.

Not his blood.

Mostly.

Matteo stared at him silently.

Because Lucien looked terrifying now.

Black coat soaked by rain.

Knuckles split open.

Gray eyes completely empty except for violence.

Monster.

Fully unleashed monster.

Interesting.

Very terrifying.

Lucien grabbed the smuggler again before he fully hit the floor.

“What location.”

“I SWEAR I DON’T KNOW—”

Lucien slammed his head against concrete.

Once.

Twice.

Matteo stepped forward immediately.

“Lucien.”

No response.

The smuggler screamed.

Lucien grabbed him by the throat hard enough to cut the sound off instantly.

“You think Dante keeps breathing if she’s hurt?”

The man clawed desperately at Lucien’s wrist.

“Lucien.”

Matteo’s voice sharpened harder this time.

Finally—

Lucien stopped.

Breathing rough.

Blood running down one side of his face from a cut near his brow.

The smuggler collapsed unconscious beneath him.

Silence crashed through the warehouse afterward except for rain hammering the roof overhead.

Lucien stared downward for one long second.

Then softly:

“She was crying.”

The sentence wrecked the room.

Not rage.

Not violence.

Worse.

Pain.

Matteo swallowed hard.

Because Lucien sounded destroyed.

Not angry destroyed.

Human destroyed.

“She trusted me enough to scream my name,” Lucien murmured quietly. “And I let Russo take her anyway.”

The guilt in his voice landed like broken glass.

Matteo stepped closer carefully.

“This isn’t your fault.”

Lucien looked at him.

And Matteo immediately regretted the sentence.

Because the expression on Lucien’s face said something horrifying:

Of course this is my fault.

Lucien turned away sharply and shoved both hands through wet hair.

Blood streaked his sleeves.

Rainwater dripped steadily from his coat onto warehouse concrete.

“She walked away from me crying,” he said hoarsely. “And now she’s trapped with Dante Russo.”

The realization nearly seemed to physically hurt him.

Matteo’s phone buzzed suddenly.

Both men looked instantly.

Matteo answered immediately.

“Yes.”

Silence.

Then his expression changed.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

He looked up slowly.

“We found the convoy.”

Lucien moved before the sentence fully finished.

—

The highway massacre started at 1:03 a.m.

Russo’s convoy reached the Queens Bridge exactly thirty seconds before Lucien intercepted them.

Black SUVs tore through rain-slick streets while engines screamed against flooded pavement. Traffic horns exploded in every direction as Lucien’s car slammed sideways across two lanes hard enough to block the bridge entrance completely.

Russo’s lead driver swore violently and jerked the wheel.

Too late.

Lucien exited the vehicle before it fully stopped moving.

Gunfire erupted instantly.

Rain exploded silver beneath flashing muzzle fire while guards scattered across the bridge behind concrete barriers.

Matteo shouted something behind him.

Lucien ignored it completely.

One thought existed now.

Ivy.

Only Ivy.

A Russo guard appeared through the rain ahead.

Lucien shot him twice center mass without slowing.

Another emerged beside the second SUV.

Dead before he fully raised the weapon.

The bridge became chaos instantly.

Screaming tires.

Rain.

Gunfire flashing white through darkness.

Lucien moved through it like something no longer human.

No hesitation.

No fear.

Only violence sharpened by love and panic until both became indistinguishable.

A guard lunged from behind a vehicle.

Lucien caught him by the throat and slammed his skull against the SUV hard enough to cave glass inward.

Blood sprayed across Lucien’s face.

Still he kept moving.

“Ivy!”

The scream tore violently through rain and gunfire.

No answer.

Panic hit instantly.

Actual panic.

Lucien ripped open the rear door of the nearest SUV.

Empty.

Wrong vehicle.

Another guard fired from behind concrete.

The bullet tore through Lucien’s shoulder hard enough to spin him sideways.

He barely reacted.

Interesting.

Terrifying.

Very terrifying.

Matteo reached him finally through rain and bullets.

“Luce—”

“WHERE IS SHE.”

Another SUV accelerated suddenly toward the far side of the bridge.

Lucien saw movement inside.

Dark hair.

Panic exploded.

He sprinted.

Ignoring the blood pouring down his arm.

Ignoring Matteo shouting behind him.

Ignoring everything except the possibility of Ivy trapped inside that vehicle.

The SUV swerved hard through rainwater.

Lucien fired twice through the rear windshield.

Glass shattered violently.

The vehicle slammed sideways against bridge railings.

Metal screamed.

Lucien reached the passenger door and ripped it open hard enough to nearly tear it off the frame.

Inside—

Ivy screamed his name again.

And Lucien—

covered in blood, rain, and enough violence to terrify the entire city—

finally stopped looking human altogether.