Dante stopped breathing.

The recording ended. Rain battered the windows above the underground War Room, but he barely heard it.

For four years, he had imagined Elena's voice. Sometimes he heard it in dreams. Sometimes in the middle of crowded restaurants. Sometimes in the silence of his bedroom, where he still kept a book she had left behind.

But this was real. That voice had come from the battered rabbit in his daughter's arms.

His daughter. The word appeared in his mind before he could stop it.

Dante stared at Lily. “Play that again.”

Lily hugged Mr. Fluffington. “He doesn't like doing repeats.”

“Lily.”

She frowned. “You're using the bossy voice.”

Dante forced himself to lower his tone. “Please.”

The word startled everyone. Luca looked at Marcus. Marcus looked at the ceiling. Neither man had heard Dante Moretti say please in years.

Lily studied him. Then she pressed the rabbit's stomach. Nothing happened. She pressed again. Still nothing.

“See?” she said. “He's tired.”

Dante crouched beside her. “Your mother recorded that message?”

Lily nodded. “She talks to Mr. Fluffington when she's scared.”

“When did she record it?”

Lily counted on her fingers. “Before the big rain.”

“Tonight?”

She shook her head. “Before tonight.”

“Yesterday?”

“Maybe.”

Dante closed his eyes briefly. Interrogating a three-year-old was proving more difficult than extracting information from hardened criminals.

He tried again. “Lily, where did you last see your mother?”

The little girl's expression changed. She looked toward the door.

“At the place with the yellow lights.”

“What place?”

“The one that smells like medicine.”

“A hospital?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Was she hurt?”

Lily's eyes filled with tears. “She was sleeping.”

Dante's chest tightened. “Sleeping?”

“And the people wouldn't let me wake her.”

The room went silent. Luca lowered his head.

Dante stared at Lily. He had faced death many times. He had watched men bleed out in front of him. He had signed orders that changed the course of entire criminal empires.

But nothing had prepared him for the sight of a little girl trying not to cry while describing her mother lying motionless in a hospital bed.

He reached toward her. Then stopped. His hand hovered inches from her shoulder.

For years, he had trained himself to avoid physical contact. Touch meant vulnerability. Vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness got people killed.

Lily looked at his hand. Then she took it. Her fingers were tiny. Cold. Sticky with something that might have been strawberry candy.

Dante felt the contact like an electric shock.

“Mommy said you're good at finding people,” she whispered.

He swallowed. “She said that?”

Lily nodded. “She said you're the best.”

Something painful twisted inside him. Elena had trusted him. Even after everything. Even after he had believed the lies.

“Then I'll find her,” Dante said.

Lily looked up. “Promise?”

He tightened his fingers around hers. “Promise.”

A sudden noise interrupted them. Lily sneezed. Violently. Her yellow raincoat slipped off one shoulder.

Dante reached to pull it back into place. Then he stopped.

Just beneath her left collarbone was a small birthmark. A perfect crescent. Pale brown against her skin.

Dante's entire body went still.

“Luca.”

His voice sounded strange.

Luca stepped closer. “Boss?”

“Look.”

Luca followed his gaze. The crescent-shaped mark was unmistakable.

For generations, several members of the Moretti bloodline had been born with a similar mark. Dante had one beneath his right shoulder. His father had possessed the same mark. So had his grandfather.

It was a family peculiarity, nothing more. Not proof of blood. But the sight of it on Lily's tiny body sent a shock through him.

“Jesus Christ,” Luca whispered.

Dante barely heard him. Because something else had slipped from beneath Lily's raincoat.

A thin silver chain. And hanging from that chain was a ring.

Dante recognized it immediately. His knees nearly gave way.

The ring was made of brushed silver. Its face bore the Moretti family seal. Inside the band, two words had been engraved.

Sempre tua. Always yours.

He had given it to Elena four years earlier. Not as an engagement ring. Not as a promise of marriage. But as a declaration that she belonged to no one except herself—and that he would stand beside her anyway.

He remembered the night perfectly. They had been on the rooftop of his Manhattan penthouse. Elena had been laughing at the ridiculous size of the diamond necklace he had tried to give her.

“I don't want something expensive,” she had said.

“What do you want?”

“Something that's yours.”

He had removed the old silver signet ring from his finger.

She had stared at it. Then at him.

“Dante, that's your grandfather's ring.”

“I know.”

“Your family would kill me.”

“They can try.”

She had laughed. Then kissed him.

It was the last happy memory he possessed of her.

Now the ring hung around a little girl's neck.

Dante reached for it. His hand trembled.

“Lily.”

She looked at him. “Where did you get this?”

She touched the ring. “Mommy gave it to me.”

“When?”

“Before she went sleepy.”

Dante's vision blurred. He carefully lifted the ring. The engraving was still there.

Sempre tua.

He closed his fist around it.

For a moment, he was no longer the Ghost. No longer the head of the Moretti family. No longer the man feared by half the East Coast.

He was simply a man holding the last gift he had given to the woman he loved. And wondering whether she was still alive.

“Luca.”

“Yes, boss?”

“Get Dr. Adrian Foster here.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“The family physician?”

“And the genetics specialist from Manhattan.”

Luca nodded immediately. “Understood.”

Dante looked at Lily. “We're going to do a little test.”

She frowned. “Like school?”

“No.”

“Does it have math?”

“No.”

“Good. Math is suspicious.”

Despite everything, Luca almost smiled.

Dante continued. “It's a test to find out whether we're family.”

Lily looked confused. “But we are family.”

He swallowed. “We need to be certain.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Then she asked a question that struck deeper than any weapon.

“If the test says no, will you make me leave?”

Dante's heart seemed to stop.

Lily's voice trembled. “Because Mommy said I had to find you.”

He looked at her. At the wet curls clinging to her forehead. At the tiny fingers gripping his jacket. At the ridiculous rabbit missing one eye.

Then he shook his head. “No.”

Her eyes widened. “No?”

“You're not leaving.”

“Even if I'm not yours?”

Dante's throat tightened. “Even then.”

Lily considered his answer. Then she smiled. It was a small smile. Tired. Hopeful. Devastating.

“Okay, Mr. Daddy.”

Dante looked toward the guards.

“From this moment forward, no one touches her without her permission. No one questions her without mine. Every entrance to this estate is to be secured.”

He paused. His gaze moved across the room.

“She is the top priority of this family now.”

Luca straightened. “Understood, boss.”

Dante looked at Marcus. “Find Elena Bennett.”

“We'll start immediately.”

“No.”

Dante's voice turned to ice.

“You started four years ago. You failed.”

Marcus went pale.

Dante leaned forward. “This time, you do not stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

A physician arrived shortly after midnight. Lily disliked the sterile gloves. She disliked the medical case. And she especially disliked the idea of anyone touching her mouth.

Dante sat beside her while the doctor explained the painless cheek swab.

“Will it hurt?” Lily asked.

“No, sweetheart,” Dr. Foster replied. “Just a little tickle.”

She looked suspicious. “That's what grown-ups say before something bad.”

Dante held out his hand. “Hold this.”

Lily took it. The doctor collected the sample. She barely flinched.

“Done,” he said.

Lily looked surprised. “Oh.”

Dante glanced at the physician. “How long?”

“With priority laboratory processing, we can have preliminary results within hours.”

“Make it happen.”

The doctor left. Lily yawned. Then yawned again. Her eyelids drooped.

Dante looked at the clock. 12:38 a.m. She should have been asleep hours ago.

“Where is her room?” he asked Luca.

“The east guest suite has been prepared.”

“Too far.”

“The family wing?”

“Closer.”

“The room beside yours?”

Dante hesitated. Then nodded. “That one.”

Luca blinked. Nobody had ever been allowed to sleep beside Dante Moretti's private quarters. Nobody.

Dante picked Lily up. The movement was awkward. He had no experience carrying children. Her little body felt impossibly light.

She curled against his chest as though she had been doing it her entire life. Her muddy boots brushed his shirt. He did not notice.

Lily rested her cheek against his shoulder.

“Daddy?”

Dante froze. “Yes?”

“Are you gonna pay the bill?”

Luca nearly walked into a wall.

Dante stared straight ahead. “We'll discuss it tomorrow.”

“With interest?”

He closed his eyes. “Go to sleep, Lily.”

She giggled softly. Then whispered, “You're funny.”

Nobody had ever accused Dante Moretti of being funny.

He carried her into the elevator.

As the doors closed, Luca's phone vibrated. A message from Marcus.

URGENT: We recovered footage from a traffic camera near the estate.

Luca opened the attachment. The video showed a black SUV parked near a roadside service station.

A woman in a dark coat stepped out. Her face was partially hidden beneath an umbrella. She handed a small yellow raincoat to a little girl. Then knelt and kissed her forehead.

Luca enlarged the image. His blood ran cold.

The woman was Elena Bennett. Alive.

But that was not what frightened him.

A second figure emerged from the SUV. Tall. Elegant. Wearing a cream-colored designer coat.

The woman turned toward the camera.

Luca recognized her immediately.

Victoria Vance. Dante's fiancée.

And in the final frame, Victoria raised a phone to her ear.

Luca received another message. This one contained only six words.

The child was never supposed to arrive.

Mafia Boss, Your Toddler is Here for Child Support!

The Don’s Mansion and the Three-Year-Old Extortionist