WHEN THE TWINS SCREAMED AT 3 A.M...

The aftermath of the attack turned the Caruso estate into a military fortress.

Floodlights illuminated every inch of the grounds, armed guards with German Shepherds patrolled the perimeter, and the sound of helicopters whirred overhead in the dark night sky.

Inside the mansion, the air was suffocatingly tense.

Elise sat on a stool in the massive, stainless-steel kitchen, holding an ice pack to her temple. The cut was minor, but Reed had insisted on having his personal doctor inspect her before she was allowed back up to the nursery.

The heavy doors pushed open, and Reed walked in. He had changed into a dark turtleneck and black trousers, stripping away the formal suit of the morning. The dark circles under his eyes spoke of extreme exhaustion, but his posture was sharp, keyed-up with adrenaline.

He gestured for the doctor to leave. Once the door closed, Reed walked over to the counter, pouring a glass of amber liquid from a crystal decanter and sliding it across the island toward her.

"Drink it," he said softly. "It helps with the shock."

Elise looked at the whiskey, then up at him. "I don't drink on the job, Mr. Caruso."

"Consider it a prescription," Reed replied, sitting on the barstool opposite her. He picked up his own glass, taking a slow sip.

Silence stretched between them, but it was no longer the cold, adversarial silence of before. It was heavy, charged with a strange, dark intimacy forged in gunfire and blood.

"Who were they?" Elise asked quietly, placing the ice pack down.

Reed’s jaw tightened. "Renants of the Moretti organization. Joined by someone inside my own house."

Elise frowned. "Inside?"

"The snipers knew the blind spots of our security grid," Reed said, his eyes darkening into pools of shadow. "The only people with access to those schematics are my top lieutenants. Julian Vane vanished twenty minutes after the attack."

Elise remembered Julian’s greasy smile and the venomous way he had spoken about Kate that morning. "He betrayed you."

"He thought he could strike at my heart," Reed murmured, looking down at his glass. "He knew that if he killed the girls, I would tear this city apart until someone put a bullet in my head. He wanted to cause chaos so he could take over the shipping docks."

He looked up, his pale gray eyes fixing onto hers with absolute intensity. "He didn't account for you."

Elise felt a flush of heat rise up her neck. "I just did what any decent person would do. I protected children."

"Most people run," Reed said flatly. "Most people use children as shields. You put your body between them and lead. That isn't just decent, Elise. That is rare."

It was the first time he had spoken her first name. It sounded different coming from his deep, gravelly voice—less like a command, more like a revelation.

"I lost my mother when I was sixteen," Elise said softly, looking down at her hands. "I know what it’s like to have your world ripped away in an instant. I couldn't let them feel that again. They've already lost too much."

Reed stared at her, his expression unreadable, but a raw, aching pain flickered in his eyes. He reached across the marble counter, his large, warm hand covering hers. His grip was firm, grounded, calloused from years of handling weapons, yet his touch was remarkably gentle.

"I haven't been a father to them," Reed confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "Since Kate died, I thought... I thought if I didn't love them too much, it wouldn't hurt as bad when the world tried to take them from me. I thought distance was safety."

"Distance is just slow dying, Reed," Elise said softly, not pulling her hand away. "They don't need a mafia king who keeps them safe in a golden cage. They need their dad. They need to hear you laugh. They need to know that even if the world is scary, you're in it with them."

Reed looked down at their joined hands. For three years, he had been an island of ice and iron, untouched by human warmth, living solely for vengeance and duty. But this woman—this fierce, brave nanny with her yellow kitchen gloves and warm brown eyes—was melting the ice, reaching through his armor, and touching the hollow, aching center of his soul.

"Teach me," Reed whispered, his thumb lightly stroking the back of her hand.

Elise raised her eyebrows. "Teach you what?"

"How to be their father again," Reed said, his eyes lifting to meet hers with terrifying sincerity. "Teach me how to bring life back into this house. Because I don't know how to do it alone anymore."

Elise’s breath hitched. The gravity of his request shook her to her core. He wasn't just asking for help with his daughters; he was handing her the keys to his broken heart.

"Okay," Elise whispered, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. "I'll teach you. But rule number one: no guns at the breakfast table."

A genuine, beautiful smile broke across Reed’s face—a sight so rare and breathtaking that Elise felt her heart skip a beat.

"Agreed," Reed said softly.

Before either of them could say another word, Marco burst through the doors, his shoulder wrapped in heavy white bandages, his face pale but urgent.

"Reed," Marco said, his voice grim. "We found Julian. He’s holed up in an abandoned meatpacking plant near the river. And he’s not alone. He’s brought in mercenaries from Detroit. They're preparing to leave the state."

The warmth in Reed’s face vanished instantly, replaced once more by the terrifying, cold mask of the syndicate chief. He slowly let go of Elise’s hand, standing up to his full, imposing height.

"Assemble the team," Reed ordered, his voice dropping into sub-zero temperatures. "We leave in five minutes."

"Reed, wait," Elise said, standing up, fear spiking in her chest. "Is it dangerous?"

Reed looked back at her. The softness was gone, but the intensity remained. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, heavy silver key, and pressed it into her palm.

"This opens the panic room in the master bedroom," Reed said firmly. "Take the girls up there. Lock the door from the inside. Do not open it for anyone except me or Marco."

"Promise me you'll come back," Elise demanded, her hands tightening around the key, her eyes locked on his. "The girls need you. I... we need you to come back."