A 3-year-old just saved a mafia heir's life. Now, she's the only witness.

Two days passed.

The news of Senator Hastings’s arrest dominated every major television network and newspaper across the country. The story was framed as a shocking political scandal involving syndicate debt, attempted murder, and corporate espionage.

Through it all, Dominic kept Lily and Sophia’s names entirely out of the press. To the world, the plot had been uncovered by "internal security measures."

On a bright, crisp Friday afternoon, the sun finally returned to the Moretti estate.

In the rear gardens, surrounded by manicured hedge mazes and blooming white roses, Ethan and Lily were playing on the lawn. Ethan was teaching Lily how to throw a small foam football, laughing as the three-year-old repeatedly threw it backwards over her own shoulder.

Dominic sat on the stone patio above the lawn, watching them while reviewing shipping manifests on his tablet.

Vincent walked up the terrace steps, holding an encrypted leather folder.

"Boss," Vincent said quietly.

Dominic didn't take his eyes off the children. "What did the FBI find in Hastings’s safe deposit box?"

Vincent opened the folder, his expression grim. "They found the financial ledgers connecting Hastings to the Genovese family, just as we expected. But they found something else, Dominic."

Dominic glanced up, his eyes narrowing. "What?"

"Hastings didn't come up with the idea to use the peanut extract on his own," Vincent revealed, handing a printed sheet of encrypted email exchanges to Dominic. "Hastings doesn't know anything about advanced biochemistry. Someone sent him Ethan’s private medical file from an anonymous server six weeks ago."

Dominic’s hands tightened around the paper. "An anonymous server?"

"Traced back to a shell company in Zurich," Vincent said. "The file contained Ethan’s exact allergic thresholds, the security schedules of the cold room, and instructions on how to bypass the basement camera relays."

Dominic stood up slowly, the sun glinting off his dark eyes.

"Hastings was just the weapon," Dominic realized, his voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "He was the desperate idiot used to execute the strike."

"Yes, Boss," Vincent agreed grimly. "Whoever sent that file wanted Ethan dead, but they didn't care if Hastings got caught. They were using Hastings to destroy both you and the senator in one move."

Dominic turned around, looking back down at the garden.

Lily had just caught the foam football, letting out a joyful squeal as Ethan clapped his hands in celebration. Sophia was sitting nearby on a garden bench, smiling warmly as she knitted a small wool sweater.

Dominic looked at his daughter, his son, and the woman who had brought light back into his dark, violent world.

He realized the war was far from over. The real mastermind was still out there, lurking in the shadows of the high-finance underworld, waiting for another opening.

Dominic reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his encrypted phone. He dialed a number he hadn't called in seven years—the number of his late wife’s brother, a high-ranking director within international intelligence.

"Dominic?" the voice answered on the line. "It's been a long time."

"I need your team in Zurich," Dominic said, his eyes fixed on his children playing safely in the sun. "Someone tried to touch my family."

"What do you need us to do?"